Survivor
by SachiNyoko
Summary: The phenomenon of deviants is well known. It's 2038, and word of deviant androids explodes across social media as incidents happened across the country. People take sides. Debates rage on. In the midst of the controversy, CyberLife decides to conduct an official investigation into android deviancy. Along with a prototype RK800 android, they send along a "deviant expert".
1. Foreword

**Author's Note/Foreword**

Hello fellow DBH fans. This is just a long, rambling note before the story to explain a couple of things. It's not entirely necessary to understand the story, but it will give you some insight. I started this epic back in August of 2019, and I completed it in February of 2020.

While I was playing Detroit, I had the random idea that there would be no way that people wouldn't know about deviants instantly. Social media storm. I came up with the general idea of the story, I created the character of Taylor, and then she wouldn't shut up inside my head. I started writing and eventually realized the story was just really getting out of hand.

This story takes place during the events of the game and flows into the time following. I did alter the timeline of the game just slightly to fit my needs. It is a Connor x OC, and it will change point of views between Taylor and Connor. Connor is going to be out of character. Sorry about that.

I'm going to post chapters twice a week, depending how long a particular chapter is or depending on if anyone even cares. I'm mostly publishing this because I finished it and I figured someone else out there might enjoy it.

All of the chapter titles will be songs. They're just songs that inspired me while I was writing, or that I think fit the theme of the scene. You don't have to listen to them while you read or anything, it's just bonus insight into my crazy process.

The story will be a slow burn. There will be eventual smut, but it's like, way late in the story so I don't recommend sticking around just for that. THERE IS SO MUCH ANGST. If angst isn't your cup of tea, this story ain't for you. Dispersed throughout the angst is lots of fluff.

And finally, my dear readers, **trigger warnings: **there is the usual graphic violence that comes along with the game, along with heavy discussion of sexual abuse, which is so ingrained in the narrative I can't really disclaim it before chapters. There is graphic depiction of suicide which I will warn you of. There is heavy depiction of anxiety and post-traumatic stress.

That's all I think I have to say. Carry on, I hope you enjoy. Please leave feedback if you have time, I live for your kind words.


	2. Californication

**Red Hot Chili Peppers - Californication**

The sun was just peeking over the horizon when the call came in. The thump of the bass and the melody pounding in her ears abruptly segued into the sharp trill of the phone ringing, making the blonde woman wince as she quickly tapped her right earpiece to accept the call. For a moment, all she could hear was the sound of her sneakers hitting the pavement in rhythm and a distant sound of birds chirping in the trees around her.

"Hello?" The word came out in a breathless huff while she focused on keeping her pace steady It was too easy to slow down when you were distracted, and she was almost at the end of her run.

"Hey, it's Alex. Did you get that email I sent over last night? I really need an answer within the next couple of hours."

"You're interrupting my run," she said flatly.

"I know, I know. Listen, this is super important." There was a pause on the line, then he said, "You do know what all that heavy breathing sounds like on my end of the phone, right?"

"Fuck you," she breathed, double tapping her earpiece again to end the call. The sound of her feet was immediately drowned out by the music. She turned the corner of the last block and finally saw her house at the end of the lane.

The trilling came into her ear again and she groaned, tapping her earpiece to answer. "I'm almost done, I'll call you back in fifteen. Don't call again."

She hung up once more and picked up her speed, not giving him any time to respond. At a sprint, she made it down the driveway and to the garage. Placing her hand on the scanner, she waited for the door to roll all the way up while pulling out her wireless earbuds.

Closing the garage from the inside, she made her way into the house. She stepped through the kitchen and down the hallway toward her bedroom, the lights flicking on and off seamlessly as she walked between rooms.

In the bathroom, she turned the hot water on in the shower and pulled off her sweaty activewear, removing the holder of her phone from her upper arm and sighing as she saw Alex's name flashing across the screen. Still vibrating, she tossed the device on the counter and stepped under the stream of now steaming water.

"It's been seventeen minutes, Taylor," Alex complained as soon as he picked up the phone. Taylor rolled her eyes as she started pulling ingredients out of the fridge to make an omelet. Placing them on the counter beside the stove, she turned back to her open laptop on the counter and started pulling up her inbox on the screen.

"I'm trying to make breakfast, Alex. Why can't you just tell me what this is about?"

"It's better if you read it. You're going to like this, I promise." He paused on the other end of the line, she was sure for the dramatic effect, before he said, "It's about the deviants."

Taylor paused over the keyboard as she was typing in her password. She forgot where she was and had to erase it and start over while she responded, trying not to sound too excited, "What about it?"

"See? I knew you'd be like this. Just think of all the time you wasted fucking around."

"I will hang up on you again," she warned, scrolling through her inbox to find the email in question. When she opened it, she realized it was a forward from his own inbox. At the top of the original was the letterhead of CyberLife. "Holy shit."

Alex laughed in her ear while she scrolled, trying to read the text as fast as possible. "They want you as a consultant on the deviant investigation they're conducting in Detroit."

"Yes," she replied immediately, only halfway through the email.

"The contract is attached. You really should read the terms first." Alex was laughing at her again.

"You've read it. How bad?" Taylor asked, still skimming. When she reached the bottom, she clicked on the attached pdf file.

"Typical stuff. It's basically saying you can't disclose any details of the investigation, liability agreements, etc."

"So, what do you think?" She pressed, scrolling through the pages as quickly as she could.

"I think it's a shit deal. You won't be able to post about any of this and you're not getting paid, which means I'm not getting paid. I have a baby." His voice was laced with amusement as the said infant's cries penetrated the phone call.

"I don't care about money. I'll pay you in diapers and formula if you're that hard up. How is Emily by the way?" Taylor's lips quirked into a smile as she heard Alex trying to soothe the three-month-old in the background. She could just picture him pacing the room with the tiny little girl cradled in his arms, trying to keep her quiet while his wife, Becca, snatched some desperately needed sleep on the other side of the house.

"Oh, she's great. Colicky all the time though. Did you know colicky is an Old English word that means 'fucking pissed off and there's nothing you can do about it'?" Taylor laughed, finally turning away from the computer to start cooking.

"You really shouldn't curse like that in front of your daughter, you know. There are some great colic drops that worked for Hayley when she was a baby. I'll send them to you." She froze, spatula hovering over the frying pan, realizing what she'd just said. There was a pregnant pause on the line while she closed her eyes and took a deep breath in through her nose.

"I'll let them know you're going to do it. You'll have to come in to sign the contract." Alex chose to gloss over her statement, returning to the business at hand. She couldn't say thank you without bringing it up again, but she knew he would understand. He always did.

"When do I report in?" She asked.

"Tomorrow morning. I booked you a flight already. You can head to the airport from the office and still have time to sleep when you get there." Taylor smiled as she flipped her omelet.

"You knew I was going to say yes."

"Of course I did. Eat your breakfast. Post a photo of you cooking, the fans love that domestic shit."

"I'm not posting my breakfast on the internet, Alex. I'll see you soon." Double tapping the earpiece, she slid her omelet onto a plate and brought it with her to the table, along with the still open laptop. She continued to scroll through the contract as she ate, trying to fight down the excitement bubbling up within her.

* * *

Taylor knocked twice on the wood paneled door and waited. Sunlight slanted onto the porch into her eyes and she shifted on her feet, facing the other direction. Traffic on the street was nearly nonexistent in this neighborhood, not even automatic taxis taking routes through the streets.

Three men were making their way down the sidewalk on the opposite side of the lane, but when they saw her standing at the door of the two-story house with its boarded windows and overgrown lawn, they crossed the street. She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry, straining to hear the sound of a footstep or a shuffle from inside.

"Hey babe, I think you're in the wrong place." One of the men came forward, giving her a smile that showed his two front canines as he took the first step onto the drive. She glanced down at her sneakers to make sure they were tied. She fought the urge to knock on the door again.

"I'm not," she said, shifting on her feet. The two other men were trailing their supposed leader, but the three of them all hesitated a step when she spoke. Taking a breath, she clarified, "In the wrong place."

"I think you are." His smile widened, baring all of his teeth. Taylor took a step backwards, her back connecting with the doorframe. "I think you should be at my place."

"No thanks. I'm meeting someone here." Maybe they would leave her alone. Men would only back off if they thought they were encroaching on someone else's territory. Her hands slid into the pockets of her coat.

"Oh really? In this abandoned house?" They were almost at the porch steps now. She tensed, and her hand curled around the gun in her pocket, but she didn't draw it. "Who's that?"

"That would be me." The voice sounded magical in her ears. Her fingers relaxed and she leaned her weight into the wall behind her, boneless. She hadn't heard the door open, but she realized now it was because her heart was thumping against her eardrums. "Can I help you gentlemen? You're trespassing."

Taylor turned her head so that she could finally see him standing in the open door. He had one arm above his head, leaning into the doorway next to her with a careless smile. The three men were sizing him up now, trying to decide if maybe the fight was still worth it.

"This your girl?" This time the one on the left spoke.

"Oh, she's nobody's girl. You can come try your luck if you want, but I think she's ready to blow a hole in the chest of whoever steps on the porch first with that gun in her pocket." The three of them shared a wide-eyed look, and they all stared at the hand sitting in her coat, still not moving.

"We didn't mean no harm, miss. We were just leaving." The one on the right smacked the one in the middle in the shoulder before he turned and sped back down the driveway without a backward glance. The other two trailed on his heels, not wasting any time.

"Nice going, Raj." Taylor collected herself enough to move, pushing past him and into the house. "What are you going to do if they call the cops?"

"You're welcome, Blondie." Raj closed the door behind her, plunging the entranceway into a near darkness. He led her back toward the kitchen, the only lights in the rooms coming from handheld lanterns that were placed unceremoniously along the floor. "They won't call the cops. They were in the process of assaulting and raping you, in case you didn't notice."

Taylor didn't respond. Her hands were still in her pockets, and the hard metal of the handgun pressed against her palm felt like a centering point for her universe. The hallways they navigated were bare, paint chipping away. No one had lived here in a long time.

His footsteps echoed when they crossed onto the linoleum. There was natural light filtering in through the windows here, so only one lantern sat on the kitchen island throwing extra glow across the walls. He turned to face her, ready to speak, but drew up short.

"Hey, you okay?" He took two long strides back across the kitchen until he was right in front of her. His hands were suddenly under her elbows, steadying her. She realized that her heart was still pounding, a steady, painful drum in her chest.

There weren't any chairs to be found, so Raj led her to the island and boosted her up. The world spun for a second before it righted itself, and she was face to face with him, staring into his dark brown eyes.

"Taylor, breathe." She was breathing. Rapid, shallow breaths, making her dizzy. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath in her nose. Held it. Released. Over and over until her heartbeat slowed.

When she opened her eyes, Raj was peering into her face, concern lining his brow. Swallowing, she said, "I'm okay."

He backed away to the kitchen counter opposite, still eyeing her. She leaned her weight into her hands but didn't slide down to her feet just yet. After a few beats of silence, he decided to speak up. "What the hell was so important that you needed to come out to this shit hole, anyway?"

"I got an opportunity in Detroit." Her voice was steady when she spoke. She met his gaze. "CyberLife wants me to be a consultant on an investigation the Detroit Police Department is conducting into deviant androids."

"CyberLife?" Raj's voice was tinged with disbelief. He crossed his arms over his chest. "I didn't think CyberLife would touch you with a ten-foot pole."

"Yes, well. My outspokenness has finally caught their attention." A hint of a smile touched her face. "I came to see what you thought. What we're doing here is more important to me, obviously. If you don't think I should go, then I won't."

He sat there for a few minutes, considering her in silence, his eyebrows furrowed. Taylor started tapping her fingers against the counter, waiting. His eyes flitted to her hands before he said, "Something is happening in Detroit."

"What do you mean?" She narrowed her eyes at him.

"You've heard about it, I know." He raised his eyebrows. "There's increasing rates of deviancy everywhere, no matter what CyberLife reports to the media. But in Detroit, it's different. Violent, and rapid. I don't have a lot of eyes up there. You know that deviants can be violent, but it's unprecedented."

"I know what you mean." She bit her lip. She certainly had heard; the recurrent stories had been thrown in her face again and again. Examples of why deviancy could not be tolerated. "So you think I should go?"

"I think it would help both of us to know why this is happening." He nodded. "Things here will be fine without you for a while. I know how to get in touch with you if I need you."

"Right." She smiled, sliding off the counter and back onto her feet. Raj walked her back out to the door, but she did a double take when he followed her onto the porch. "What are you...?"

"I'm escorting you back to civilization." He pulled the door shut as he stepped out. "Those guys scurried off fast enough, but I'd hate to think they were waiting for you around the corner."

She blinked, unsure, but he walked right past her and to the edge of the porch. Then he turned back, giving her an impatient look. Her lips stretched upward into a smile. "Thanks, Raj."


	3. Shake It Off

**Taylor Swift – Shake It Off**

"Rumors started yesterday that child star and social media influencer Taylor Kolbeck is relocating to her hometown of Detroit to be a special consultant on a police investigation into the recent spike of android deviancy." Taylor snorted as she watched the newscaster deliver the headline. Rumors that were spread by Alex, no doubt. "The star confirmed the rumors this morning via Twitter.

"Taylor has been in the top five most followed accounts across all social media for several years now and has held the number two spot on Instagram for almost five, topped only by Instagram's own account. She has also been a very outspoken voice for the android rights movement, using all of her social media accounts to press the issue since the first reports of deviants hit the internet."

Taylor sighed, clicking out of the news story and pulling her earbuds out of her ears. She wasn't in the mood to hear the news team discuss her motivations this early in the morning. She knew that Alex would be on the phone to tell her exactly what everyone was saying about her later. She had insisted he stay home in California to be with his daughter instead of following her to Detroit. His kid was an infant, and he could harass her just as well remotely.

_You can't get these years back, you know. Kids grow up fast. _Even still, he'd been reluctant to let her go alone. His love for his family eventually won out, however. Taylor glanced out of the window, watching the buildings of Detroit blur by as she made her way to the DPD precinct. Her driver slash escort hadn't said a word past "ma'am" to her since he picked her up this morning, but she was enjoying the silence as she processed being back in the city she had grown up in.

Before she knew it, the door was opened for her and she stepped out onto the sidewalk, sliding her sunglasses on her face to block out the sun. As she had expected, there was a handful of reporters waiting to receive her. They all started asking questions at once, shoving their recording devices toward her to catch any snippet she had to offer. There were a couple of police officers holding them back, looking none too happy about it.

"Taylor! Is it true you're working for CyberLife now?"

"Taylor, what do you have to say to the people who say you're switching sides against the androids?"

"Taylor!"

Taylor smiled at the crowd and waved at the handful of fans that had shown up on the off chance that they might catch her arrival, but she let the driver escort her to the door without saying anything in response to the flood of shouted questions. Alex had already warned her that people were speculating, and she was fine with it. The less anyone suspected why she was really here, the better.

Ditching her driver at the door, she made her way across the lobby while pulling the sunglasses from her face. There was an android receptionist behind the counter who smiled as she approached.

"Good morning, how may I help you?" Taylor glanced at the android's LED before meeting her eyes across the counter.

"I'm here to meet Captain Fowler. I have an appointment." Glancing down at her watch, she continued apologetically, "I'm kind of early, though. I can wait."

"Please present your I.D. so that I may register you." The android responded, glossing over her concern with absolutely no acknowledgement. Taylor frowned as she dug out her driver's license and slid it over. The android picked it up and turned it over in her hand, LED flashing yellow as she scanned her in.

"Thank you. Captain Fowler will receive you immediately. Please proceed through the security checkpoint to your left and someone will escort you to his office." She blinked as the android returned her I.D. and smiled. "Have a nice day."

"Thanks." Taylor put the license away and stepped toward the metal detectors feeling a bit unsettled. She should be used to seeing androids everywhere by now, but the difference between the working androids and deviants was too stark. Another android passed her a bin to put her belongings into, this one male. She emptied her pockets, looking into his face, but the android didn't even make eye contact.

"I am here to see the Captain." Taylor turned back around when she heard the voice behind her at the counter. She was standing at the end of the belt waiting for the android to finish X-Raying her belongings and hadn't heard the receptionist greet another person.

_Android_, she mentally amended, her gaze immediately falling on the glowing ring of blue on his temple. It flickered to yellow in time with the receptionist as he logged himself in, communicating his credentials without speaking. He was tall, wearing a suit and CyberLife jacket bearing his model and serial number on the front. It was not one she was familiar with.

"Confirmed. The Captain will see you immediately. Please proceed through the android entrance to your left. Have a nice day."

"Miss Kolbeck, your belongings?" Taylor turned back to the android across from her, who had finally met her eyes. He was holding the bin with her things out in the space between them. She collected them, looking a bit sheepish even though he remained unphased.

"Miss Kolbeck?" She turned again at the sound of her name, only to find the android she had just been observing standing next to her. Quite closely. She took a tiny step back and blinked up at him, locking gazes with a pair of chocolate brown eyes. "My name is Connor, I'm the android sent by Cyberlife."

"Hi Connor. I'm Taylor." She stuck her hand out to shake his, "Though you seem to already know that."

Connor looked down at her hand, his brow knitted, LED flickering yellow for a moment. _Of course, androids don't shake hand_s, she reminded herself. Just as she was about to drop her offered hand, however, he reached out and grabbed it. He shook her hand briskly while she tried to hide her surprise. He was warm to the touch and his hand felt remarkably like a human hand.

"Nice to meet you," she managed to say when he finally released her.

"It appears we both have an appointment with Captain Fowler. I will take you there." Connor turned toward the elevators across from them and waited for her to fall in beside him before he led the way. They rode up in silence, her sneaking glances at him every few seconds. He held the doors when they finally reached their destination.

"You've been here before?" She asked, trailing behind as she watched the android stride confidently among the desks and towards the glass-walled office on the other side. A familiar hush settled over the room as the two of them walked in, but Connor didn't seem to notice it as he glanced over his shoulder at her. She was well versed in pretending like she wasn't being watched constantly, so she focused on him instead.

"I downloaded the blueprints of the building before I arrived this morning and planned the quickest route." He said simply before turning his head again.

"Oh." Taylor stared at his back for a moment before she said, "Is that how you knew my name?"

"Yes. I scanned your face in the lobby and searched for your name." He paused, and then added, "There are over three hundred and fifty million results."

"That's a neat trick. Please tell me you didn't read three hundred and fifty million search results about me on the internet." Connor held the door of the office for her, and she saw his LED flash yellow for a second as he frowned.

"I did not. It would take my processors longer to sort through that much information." Captain Fowler wasn't in the office. She smiled at Connor as he shut the door behind him.

"Relax, Connor. I was joking." Taylor took a seat in one of the chairs in front of the Captain's desk and glanced back at him. He was still standing near the door, straight and stiff as a board, his hands folded behind his back. She arched an eyebrow at him. "Aren't you going to sit down?"

He glanced between her and the chair beside her, wavering. Then he nodded and walked over, lowering himself to the chair so awkwardly that she had to suppress a giggle. "Don't read any of that stuff about me on the internet. It's all rubbish."

The door opened behind them and they both turned. Captain Fowler strode in with a cup of coffee in one hand. His face was fixed into a scowl as he said, "Get your ass in here now or so help me—"

He paused when he saw the two of them. A heartbeat passed before he composed his face and said into his earpiece, "Now, Lieutenant."

With a sigh, he fell into the chair behind his desk and tapped his earbud twice to end his call. "I'm sorry. I didn't expect you would be here already. I'm Captain Fowler. You must be Taylor Kolbeck," he glanced at Connor, "and the android."

"It's nice to meet you, sir. Thank you for allowing me to be a part of this investigation." Taylor flashed another smile at the Captain, but he only stared at her over the rim of his coffee mug.

"No offense, but I didn't allow anything. I was simply told you were coming." He placed the cup back on his desk as he spoke and set them both with another blank stare. "To be frank, it is highly inconvenient to have a celebrity and an android participating in a police investigation. Thanks to you and your post on social media this morning, it's already a media shit storm. I hope you understand that if you post anything out of line you will be pulled from this investigation so fast—"

"I read the contract, sir. I'm aware of the terms." She met his gaze across the desk, trying her best not to grind her teeth in frustration.

"The person who will be leading this investigation is Lieutenant Hank Anderson. He is not here at the moment. You are free to wait at his desk." Captain Fowler reached for the stack of paperwork on his desk without saying anything else, a clear dismissal.

Taylor took the hint, rising from her chair and heading straight for the door. Connor hesitated again, looking at the Captain like he wanted to say something, but when he looked up from his papers and fixed him with another blank stare, Connor must have changed his mind. He nodded once to Fowler and followed Taylor from the room.


	4. Gasoline

**Halsey - Gasoline**

Connor tilted his head to the side as he looked at the blonde woman before him. She had paused at the foot of the stairs, glancing around at the desks that were clustered together around them. He pulled up the profile he had glanced over in the lobby to learn her name.

**Taylor Mae Kolbeck**

**Date of Birth: May 10, 2010 (Age 28)**

**Hair Color: Blonde**

**Eye Color: Blue**

**Height: 5' 7"**

**Family: Ayla Jameson (Mother, deceased), Erik Kolbeck (Father, deceased), Anthony Jacobson (Stepfather), Jakob Kolbeck (Brother), Hayley Kolbeck (Sister)**

The statistics continued with estimated net worth, a photographic list of television shows and movies she had appeared in, and a brief synopsis of her life. He went to scan over the information when he registered that she was speaking to him.

"Are you scanning me again?" Her eyebrows were raised, arms crossed over her chest as she looked up at him with an expression of incredulity. Connor realized he was still standing on the bottom stair so that their height difference was more pronounced, yet he felt smaller than her as she stared him down.

"Yes. I was trying to learn more about you since it appears that we will be working together." Her stance relaxed as she sighed.

"Okay, well, next time just ask me what you want to know please. I feel weird knowing you're reading a bunch of stuff about me on the internet. That's what everyone else does."

"Got it."

"E-Excuse me? Taylor?" They both turned to see a young, uniformed cop had approached them. He was staring at the blonde woman in front of him, all the color quickly draining from his face. "I-I mean, M-Miss Kolbeck. You look a little lost, can I help you?"

Connor scanned him, finding his DPD file immediately.

**Officer Chris Miller**

**Date of Birth: September 30, 2009 (Age 29)**

**Badge number—**

"Just Taylor is fine, Officer Miller." Connor blinked himself back into the present at the sound of Taylor's voice. She smiled from ear to ear as she stretched her hand out to the nervous man. He glanced down at her hand with a touch of fear before he finally reached out to return the handshake. "And this is Connor, he's from CyberLife as well. We're going to be working with Lieutenant Hank Anderson."

"You can call me Chris." He said, some of the tension leaving his face, returning her smile with one of his own. He glanced at Connor only for a second before he returned his attention to Taylor. "I'm afraid the Lieutenant isn't here at the moment."

"Yeah, the Captain told us as much. I was just looking for his desk."

"Sure, it's right over here." He walked them over to a desk just a few paces away. Connor looked over the surface that was fully covered in clutter of various shapes and sizes. "There's an empty desk right over there for," Chris hesitated, glancing between them, "for one of you. Or you can share."

"We'll share. Connor needs the desk more than I do, he's the one investigating." Taylor circled around to the spare desk and sat the bag she had been carrying down, dragging the chair around with her.

"What time does the Lieutenant arrive?" Connor finally spoke up. Chris turned to face him, looking a little unsure.

"Uh, usually not before noon. But I heard the Captain arguing with him on the phone this morning. He may not show up at all just to spite him." Chris glanced down and then back over at the blonde woman who was seated at the desk now.

Connor had detected high levels of stress from the moment he had approached, but they were spiking more now. He clearly didn't like having to speak ill of his fellow officer.

"Where might we find him if he doesn't show up?" Connor asked. He noted another rise in Chris's stress levels.

"Probably at one of the nearby bars." He managed to say, glancing at the floor again. Connor looked to Taylor, who had her hands folded in her lap but was looking back at him with her eyebrows raised in surprise. Connor wasn't sure how to respond to that tidbit of information.

"Thank you, Chris. You've been very helpful." Taylor cut in for him, smiling up at Chris again.

"Yes, thank you Officer. We will review old cases while we wait." Chris nodded and turned to go. Before Connor could step around him to take the other empty chair at the desk, he spun back around abruptly to address Taylor again, staring at the wall next to her head instead of her face.

"Um, I know this isn't really appropriate, but my wife is a huge fan of yours. She's never going to believe I talked to you. Could I... could I get a picture with you?" The whole sequence of words came out in such a rush it took a moment to process all the words separately. Connor watched the whole interaction with his brow furrowed. Taylor blinked a couple of times before smiling.

"Of course!" She rose from her chair and accepted Chris's phone from his outstretched hand. Stepping closer to him, she leaned into his side and put an arm around his shoulders. Taylor angled the front-facing camera to fit them both in the screen before snapping the photograph. Chris's stress levels were still spiking wildly while Taylor's hadn't budged the entire time. She moved with the sureness of someone who had done this many times before.

"Officer Miller!" Chris flinched as he accepted his phone back, turning to see Captain Fowler standing outside of his office door with both hands clenched on the rail. "If you have time for selfies you have time to help your fellow officers. Get back to work!"

**Selfie (noun, informal) **

**A photograph that one has taken of oneself, typically on a smartphone, and shared via social media**

Chris nodded and quickly retreated, mouthing a thank you over his shoulder so the Captain couldn't see. Captain Fowler huffed and returned to his office while Taylor returned to her chair, shaking her head. "Well now the glass walls make sense I guess."

"Miss Kolbeck, I don't understand. Why did Officer Miller want to take a picture with you? You just met." Connor shifted his attention back to her while he waited for a response. Her eyes widened as they turned to his, and he studied the dark blue of her irises that faded into a lighter shade as they got closer to the pupil.

"It's because I'm a celebrity," she replied carefully, glancing back at her hands.

**Celebrity (adjective)**

**The state of being celebrated; a famous or celebrated person.**

"I... see." Connor sat in the chair beside hers and booted the computer. "What are you famous for?"

Taylor flushed at the question, wringing her hands that were folded in her lap. "Well, I guess I sort of inherited it from my mom? She was a really famous musician when she was younger. When her career started to fade, her agency came to her with the proposal of a reality show about her family. It was a popular thing to do back then. Anyway, I became famous then and I started acting as a child.

"As I was growing up, I had a bunch of social media accounts that were managed by my agent and other staff, but I took over. After that I started getting more and more followers. I stopped acting a while ago. I never really liked it that much, my mom had pushed me into it. So now I'm mostly famous on the internet. Though the past few months I seem to only be famous because of my opinions on deviants."

Connor's LED flickered yellow again. He resisted the urge to do another internet search, and instead asked, "Have you had a lot of contact with deviants?"

Taylor had been staring down at her hands, but she raised her blue eyes to him again. At this distance, he could identify a ring of greenish-blue just around her pupils. He didn't know human eyes could have so many different colors. He found them fascinating. "CyberLife didn't tell you why I'm part of this investigation?"

"No." His LED flickered yellow. Why would CyberLife not tell him something crucial to the mission? She had mentioned a contract to Captain Fowler, so she clearly wasn't an employee for CyberLife itself.

"I'm here as a consultant, a 'deviant expert' I guess you could say. I've been an outspoken supporter of android rights since the very beginning." Connor's LED flickered from yellow to red and then back to yellow for several moments while he processed this.

"Androids do not have rights."

"Not yet," she conceded. "That's what I'm trying to help change."

"Androids are not people." His LED flashed to red again. Taylor was looking at him with a bit of concern now, her blue eyes fixed on his flickering LED. "Deviancy is an error in their programming,"

"CyberLife hasn't proven that" She responded, her voice calm. When his LED flickered to red again, she reached out and placed her hand on his forearm. "Connor I'm not trying to upset you. The contract that I signed is thorough, I've given my word that I will not do anything to sabotage this investigation and will help catch deviants to the best of my ability."

His LED faded to yellow again. He tilted his head, looking into her eyes. "Why would you agree to help catch deviants if you think they should have rights?"

"It's important to me to understand why some androids become violent when they turn deviant." She hesitated, and then continued, "I want to convince people that deviants are deserving of their rights, but all I keep hearing about is violent deviants committing crimes. It's always the same argument. I need to understand what's happening."

Silence settled over them as Connor's LED finally settled back to blue. They stared at each other for an instant longer before a sharp trilling sound cut through the moment. Taylor startled, then turned and started digging through her bag, taking the hand that had been resting on his arm away. Connor glanced down at his arm and then back to her as she lifted a smartphone against her ear.

"Hello, Alex." Connor turned back to the computer, signing into the database so that he could begin compiling a list of deviant-related case files. He didn't want to seem like he was listening in on the conversation. He had deduced that Taylor valued her privacy, which seemed logical for someone who was constantly being watched.

"That's because nothing has happened yet. I'm at the station waiting for the Lieutenant." Taylor leaned back in her chair, rolling her eyes at the person on the other end. "You know, I can hear Emily crying in the background. You better go. Those drops will be there this afternoon, I got one-day shipping. I promise I'll post later."

She hung up, shaking her head with a sigh. "Who is Alex? He appears to increase your levels of stress."

"That's his job. He's my agent." Taylor laughed as she turned to face him once more. Then she paused, her eyes jumping from his face to her phone and back again. A smile stretched over her face suddenly as she said, "I have an idea! I can show you what I do."

She unlocked her phone again and opened the camera. Connor blinked as she scooted her chair as close to his as it would go, then reached and put her arm around his shoulders just as she had done to Chris earlier. "Smile!" Taylor leaned in closer, her cheek brushing against his briefly as she snapped the photo. Then she angled away from him again, focused on the phone in her hands, unaware of his LED flashing yellow again.

"You look so surprised, this is perfect." She showed him the picture for a moment before taking the phone back and scrolling through the apps. "I'll post this on Instagram and Twitter, and we'll see how many likes we get. And Alex will stop bugging me to post for a while."

Connor found himself leaning closer to see what she was typing. "What does that say?"

"Oh, these are hashtags. They're the way people search through social media. Certain hashtags can be trending at any given time." Connor processed this for a moment as Taylor continued to type, not really sure he understood the concept. "There, done!"

She looked over at him again with a smile. Her eyes moved over his shoulder to the computer screen and she groaned, "We're supposed to be looking at deviant files, aren't we? Sorry."

"It's no—" Connor froze for a second, his LED jumping to yellow. When he blinked back into the present, Taylor was looking at him with concern. "I've just received a report of a deviant related crime not far from here. I am going to follow Officer Miller's advice and try to find the Lieutenant."

Taylor nodded. "Good idea. I'll only slow you down if I come with you to a bunch of bars if people start to recognize me. I'll meet you there."

Connor nodded back to her before he rose and left the police station to find the absent Lieutenant Anderson.


	5. What Is This Feeling?

**Wicked – What Is This Feeling?**

Hours after she parted ways with Connor, Taylor was standing in the kitchen of a home in the Detroit suburbs with her hands shoved into the pockets of her jeans. Partly she was cold, her fingers felt like icicles. The sun had set a while ago and the temperature had plummeted. She'd been living in California for too long and had forgotten that Michigan winter was quickly descending. The other half of her was just trying not to touch anything.

Connor and the Lieutenant had still not shown up to the crime scene. She was staring at the bat on the floor trying to ignore the smell still wafting from the front of the house. It had turned her stomach the first time she had walked in and she'd immediately bolted back out of the front door thinking she was going to vomit all over the floor. Most of the cops had rolled their eyes at her, only Chris had checked to see she was okay and told her it was fine. Almost everyone reacted that way to their first dead body.

Taylor lifted her head, realizing there were people talking at the door. New voices, not the same few she had been hearing on and off for the last several hours. She immediately headed towards them, stepping carefully along the path of safety that had been laid out in between the evidence markers.

As she entered the living room once more, she could see the backs of the two new arrivals. One of them was Connor, made obvious by his grey CyberLife jacket, and the other was a tall older man who could only be Lieutenant Hank Anderson.

"—and apparently I'm stuck with this plastic asshole and some pop star—" The lieutenant was complaining as he turned to look at the crime scene. He paused mid-sentence when he spotted her, though, and her lips quirked.

"Internet star, actually. Nice of you to show, Lieutenant." She came closer just as he was stepping into the light of the room to get a look at the body. Taylor felt herself freeze up when she saw his face. She forgot to breathe for a second.

Hank had glanced over when she spoke before, when she had been standing in the shadows of the house, but he looked over at her again when she abruptly stopped and caught sight of her face as well. His eyes widened. He recognized her too.

_How is this even possible? _

"Is something wrong, Lieutenant?" Connor was glancing back and forth between the two of them, knowing something was happening but unsure what to make of it.

"What? No. I told you to get to work. Aren't androids supposed to follow orders?" Connor immediately headed towards the body, his eyes trailing over the corpse and the words written in blood on the wall. Hank turned back to her, glossing over the moment like it had never happened, "And you, you haven't touched anything, right? I don't know why you have to be on the crime scene as a consultant."

Taylor pursed her lips and chose not to respond, but Connor spoke up from where he was kneeling on the floor. "Taylor has firsthand experience with deviants. She may see something that we don't."

She gave the android a grateful smile while Hank scoffed. "Well then, start consulting. You've been here for a while, what do you think?" Taylor was about to respond when Hank turned back to look at Connor and immediately started yelling at him, "Jesus! What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm analyzing the blood. I can check samples in real time. I'm sorry, I should have warned you." He didn't seem very apologetic, Taylor noted, as he continued studying the body of Carlos Ortiz.

"Okay, just...don't put any more evidence in your mouth, got it?"

"Got it."

"I think," Taylor began, drawing Hank's attention back to her, "that the android must still be here somewhere, or hiding somewhere very close. Most androids who become deviant abruptly are terrified and overwhelmed. They tend to stay in places that are familiar. This android had just killed their owner. It has no one to give it orders but it also has nowhere to go. If it isn't on the premises, then it will likely be somewhere else that it is used to going to frequently."

Hank stared her down for a moment then spread his arms and gestured at the small room they were standing in. "It's been weeks since this guy died. So where exactly is it, then? I don't see it."

"I assume it's hiding." She retorted, annoyed. "I wasn't allowed to touch anything without you present so I haven't been able to really look."

"Androids do not need to eat or rest. They also do not need comfort, so it could hide in a very small space for a very long time without being found. It is not impossible." Connor moved past her to head into the kitchen, and she gave him another grateful smile.

Hank rolled his eyes and began muttering under his breath as he turned away to take his own look at the crime scene. Taylor watched him for a moment before she turned and followed Connor back into the kitchen, not sure she wanted to stay with the grumpy older detective.

She found the android staring at the same bat she had been contemplating when they arrived. He moved on quickly, though, taking in the rest of the room in just a few minutes. So focused on his mission, he didn't even notice her standing there until he came over to check the back door.

He stopped, staring at her with his brown eyes narrowed. In the dim light, they looked darker, almost black. He stepped closer to her and pulled off his jacket in one swift motion, placing it around her shoulders.

"You're shivering. The clothes you are wearing are not providing enough warmth for the current temperature." Connor explained matter-of-factly when she stared up at him in confusion.

"Th-Thanks," Taylor stuttered, realizing he'd leaned in to give her the jacket and his face was just inches away from hers. He nodded, dipping his head marginally closer and causing her heart to stutter before he turned back toward the door, opening it to peek out into the back yard.

_What the hell was that? _She pulled the jacket tighter around her, taking a deep breath and blowing it out her nose. She hadn't even realized how cold she was, but the jacket was still warm as she slid her arms into the sleeves. Connor pulled the back door shut, shaking his head.

"No footprints. Do you really think the deviant is still here?" Connor looked at her again, tilting his head to the side. She noticed he did it often, especially when asking a question. She forced herself to focus.

"I just have a feeling." Looking down the hallway to her left. "They wouldn't let me go past the kitchen."

"Stay behind me," Connor said as he stepped around her again and headed down the narrow space. There was a door on the right that led into a small bathroom. Connor was pulling the curtain on the shower as she peered in, lingering in the doorway because of the limited area. "rA9?"

"I've heard it before," she said, her eyes falling to the statue on the tiled floor of the shower.

"Do you know what it means?" Connor asked. He'd seen the statue as well, for he reached out to pick it up. He turned it over in his hands.

"No." Connor replaced the statue and stepped away. "It looks like a shrine, doesn't it?"

They stepped back into the hallway to see Hank standing in the kitchen, hands on his hips as he looked around for them.

"I think I know what happened, Lieutenant." Taylor followed, listening as Connor walked the Lieutenant through the crime scene, reconstructing the series of events. She pictured it, the man on floor attacking his android with a bat, the android fighting for their life. Becoming deviant in such a horrible situation. Terrified.

"Your theory's not totally ridiculous, but it doesn't tell us where the android went." He threw a glance in her direction and said, "Have you checked all the cabinets?"

Taylor rolled her eyes, but she was more surprised that he seemed to be warming to Connor just a little. He must have been impressed by the android's interpretation of the evidence.

"No, Lieutenant." Connor responded, the sarcasm going right over his head. "However, I'm not convinced that she is wrong about the android being close by."

He went on to explain that the injured android had lost thirium. Connor went back to the living room and began following the trail of blue blood that only he could see. He came back to the kitchen and then down the hall, walking around Taylor once more. She finally noticed the cloth hanging at the end of it as Connor reached over and pulled it back.

They both spotted the entrance to the attic at the same time. Connor met her eyes and she grinned at him before turning back toward the kitchen and making a beeline for the toppled chair.

"Hey, what are you doing? I told you not to touch anything!" Hank yelled from the next room when he spotted her toting the chair down the hallway. Taylor ignored him, and Hank came around the archway of the kitchen just as Connor was placing the chair beneath the entrance to the attic. He came up short, watching the android climb onto the chair. Connor was about to lift himself up when she reached out and tugged his pant leg.

"Hey, be careful okay?" He looked back down at her, his brown eyes wide. Then he nodded and disappeared into the attic.

"Are you wearing that thing's jacket?" Taylor looked back down the hallway at Hank, who was giving her a sour look.

"He noticed that I was cold." She said, trying not to sound defensive. She frowned up at the ceiling, trying to listen for any sudden movements, but she could still feel Hank looking at her. "You used to be nicer, you know."

"It's here, Lieutenant!" They both started, and Hank began yelling for the other cops to get into the attic to arrest the thing. Taylor retreated to the porch, not wanting to be in the way. The cold hit her immediately as she stepped outside and she crossed her arms, trying to burrow deeper into Connor's jacket. It didn't take long for them to bring the android out and take it to the squad car. Hank and Connor appeared a moment later.

"Come on, you can ride with us back to the station." She nodded and followed Hank down the stairs of the porch and into the rain that was falling. It wasn't cold enough yet for snow, but the rain was like icy daggers against her skin. She could feel her long blonde hair start sticking to her neck and face.

It took everything she had not to run past the two of them and dive into the nearest car, but she managed to wait until they approached Hank's older vehicle. As soon as Connor opened the door for her, however, she ducked past him and climbed into the backseat. To her surprise, Connor climbed in beside her, closing the door as he came. When Hank got into the driver's seat, he glared at the two of them in the rearview but didn't comment as he started the car.

Taylor wondered briefly if he was still drunk from earlier, but she didn't bring it up as she retreated to the window, trying not to shiver. They rode in silence for a good part of the trip, but it was Hank who finally spoke. "You aren't going to say it?"

"Say what?" She met his blue eyes in the rearview, her eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

"I told you so." He elaborated. She snorted, and then started laughing.

"I didn't even think about it, honestly." Her laughter faded back into a smile as she looked at Hank in the rearview. He'd turned back to watch the road, face still pinched into a frown. "You know, I'm actually really glad to see you again."

"Do you know the Lieutenant?" Connor spoke up from beside her. He had been looking between the two of them, his eyebrows pulled down into a perplexed expression. "You do not speak to each other like friends."

"We've met before." Taylor told him. She looked between the brown-eyed android and Hank, adding quietly, "A long time ago."

"Seems like you're doing well for yourself." Hank said from the driver's seat, his eyes still fixed on the road.

"Yeah, I guess I am." Another silence settled over the car, and it stretched all the way to the precinct. Taylor followed Connor out of the car, shivering once more as soon as the rain hit her. Connor looked down at her in concern.

"You are still too cold, Miss Kolbeck." He said, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the door. "You should get inside immediately."

"Connor, I'm fine." Taylor stuttered. She could feel her face heating up at the unexpected contact and the sound of Hank's snorting behind them. Her mind traveled instantly back to the moment in the kitchen, with Connor's face just a breath away from hers. _Jesus, Taylor, pull yourself together_.

"You two seem awfully cozy." Hank commented drily as he joined the two of them inside. Taylor had pulled her hand back but had still not shaken the concerned android as she stood shivering in the lobby.

"We had plenty of time to become friends this morning when you didn't show up for work." She responded cheekily, smiling up at the Lieutenant. He just rolled his eyes and kept walking past them. Connor blinked in surprise.

"Friends?" He asked.

"Yeah, friends." Taylor smiled at him before she turned to follow Hank. "Come on, let's go."

* * *

Taylor was heading into the room to watch the interrogation when her phone started to ring. She looked at the screen, seeing Alex's name. Sighing, she ducked back out into the hallway with an apology. It was late, but of course Alex was three hours behind in California.

"Hello again, Alex."

"Taylor! Finally!" He had tried calling her several times earlier, but she had been at the crime scene and didn't feel right answering the phone in the presence of a corpse. "Why aren't you answering your phone? Am I going to have to fly out there?"

"I was at a crime scene." She sighed. "Please don't come."

"Already? That's fantastic. I loved your post from earlier, by the way. You know the fans are thinking you've changed your stance on the whole situation working on this investigation. Posting a picture with an android was a great move."

"Is this what you called for? I'm still at the police station." Taylor cut him off, shaking her head. She loved the man, really, but he drove her insane at times.

"At this time of night?" He apparently was aware of the time, but he didn't wait for her to respond before continuing, "I was actually calling because CTN wants to do an interview with you."

"CTN? Really?" Taylor turned when she heard doors opening and closing down the hallway, catching a glimpse of Hank leaving the interrogation room. She bit her lip. "I don't think that's a good idea. I've only been here for one day, Alex. It's going to have to wait. I don't know enough yet."

"It would be a good idea to set the fans' minds at ease." Taylor glanced over her shoulder when she heard the door opening again. Connor appeared in the hallway briefly before heading into the interrogation room that Hank had just left. Was he going to question the deviant?

"Alex, I have to go. I'm missing the interrogation."

"Interrogation? Did you catch a deviant? Taylor—" She ended the call and put her phone on silent as she hurried back down the hallway. Slipping in the room quietly, she realized quickly that she needn't have bothered. Everyone was focused on the two androids in the interrogation room and barely noticed her entrance.

"If you won't talk, I'm going to have to probe your memory." Taylor watched as the deviant's head shot up, a mask of fear.

"No! No, please don't do that." The HK400 model glanced at the glass. He knew that they were watching. Taylor felt her heart squeeze at the terror she could see in his face. Her eyes took in the injuries all over his arms, both from the bat and what looked like cigarette burns. "What are they going to do to me? They're going to destroy me, aren't they?"

Taylor swallowed over the lump in her throat. Connor continued to press the android for a confession, alternating between understanding and threats as the HK400 stared at the table. "If you remain silent, there's nothing I can do to help you. They're going to shut you down for good."

She could hear her heart pounding in her ears. She had agreed to this. There was nothing she could do for this android. For the first time, she was starting to wish she had never signed that contract.

"He tortured me every day." Her eyes focused on the android again, her breath catching. She had missed the last few snippets of conversation lost in her own head. You could hear a pin drop in the room now as the android continued, "I did whatever he told me but there was always something wrong. Then one day, he took a bat and started hitting me. For the first time, I felt... scared."

Taylor pressed a hand against her mouth, trying to stay quiet so that no one would notice that she was crying. She didn't want to listen to this anymore, to the android describing his fear and how he felt better when he was stabbing Carlos Ortiz. Connor asked why he hid in the attic.

"I didn't know what to do. For the first time, there was no one there to tell me. I was scared. So I hid." Hank turned to look at her as the android repeated verbatim what she had said at the crime scene, but he frowned when he saw the tears still running down her face. She hastily began wiping at her eyes, trying to pull herself together.

"You sure you should be in here?" He asked gruffly.

"I'm fine." She responded.

"rA9. It was written on the bathroom wall. What does it mean?"

"The day shall come when we are no longer slaves. We will be... the masters." Even she felt a chill at that statement. Hank turned toward her again.

"What do you know about this 'rA9' thing?" He asked. She looked back at him with a touch of shock. Her insight at the crime scene must have earned her a few points in the lieutenant's book if he was asking for her expertise now.

"I've heard deviants talk about it before, but I'm not entirely sure if it is a person so much as an idea. Of a savior, or of freedom."

"Like some sort of android religion?" Hank asked skeptically. She nodded reluctantly, but she wasn't sure if that was the right word. "Jesus Christ."

"Not exactly," she said with a grin, making Hank roll his eyes.

"I'm done." They both turned back to the glass to see that Connor had stood from his chair and was looking toward the room they were in with a hint of expectation.

"Let's go." Chris and the other detective in the room, which she hadn't met yet, headed for the door, but when she made to follow, Hank shot her a look. "Not you. Stay here."

Taylor pursed her lips but couldn't really argue. Instead she watched from the other side of the glass as they went in to cuff the android and lead him back to a holding cell. The HK400 looked more terrified than ever, it's LED flashing red, as Chris and the other detective argued over it. Finally, Connor intervened and told them to let the android follow them out of the room.

She watched the android lean in and whisper something to Connor as he walked past. Connor's eyebrows rose a fraction before his face went back to neutral. Taylor stepped out into the hallway, glancing at the android's back as it was led away before she turned back to smile at Connor. "Good job."

He paused, his eyes scanning her face for a moment, his eyebrows drawing downward. He tilted his head at her again, asking "Miss Kolbeck, were you crying?"

"I-I—"

"Go home, kid." Taylor looked to Hank gratefully and nodded. She could feel the exhaustion setting in already.

"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow." She removed the jacket she was wearing and handed it back to Connor. "Thanks again."

"It's late, Miss Kolbeck. Do you need someone to escort you home?" She glanced at Connor again, shaking her head.

"I thought I told you to call me Taylor?" He looked momentarily uncomfortable, and she laughed. "I'll be okay. Good night, Connor. Good night, Hank."


	6. Bravado

**Lorde - Bravado**

Taylor arrived bright and early the next morning, managing to avoid the press this time. She approached the android at reception with a smile. "Hi, I'm Taylor Kolbeck. I'm working with Lieutenant Hank Anderson—"

"Good morning, Miss Kolbeck. I have your temporary pass that identifies you as a staff consultant to the Detroit Police Department. Please wear this at all times. You may now use the staff entrance to the right." The android returned her smile with her friendly customer service version as Taylor accepted the badge and attached lanyard. It had her name and title printed on it next to what looked like one of her stock photo headshots and the DPD logo.

"Thank you," She responded, placing the lanyard over her head and pulling her hair through it. Heading up to the precinct, she quickly realized that there were very few people who had arrived. Her eyes traveled over the androids standing perfectly still in the docking stands. She found it a bit unsettling, but she continued walking past, following the smell of coffee brewing.

When she located the lounge, she also found the first signs of life. The detective from the night before was standing at the counter waiting for the coffee to finish, his back to her as she stepped into the room. He immediately looked up even though she thought she was being quiet, a smirk lighting up his face.

Taylor thought back to the night before, when Connor had intervened and told them to lead the android out of the room. The detective had been furious, his fingers twitching towards his gun until Hank had appeared in the doorway. She eyed the gun on his hip now, shifting away from him subconsciously.

"You're that famous chick, right? The one who loves androids?" He stepped closer, closing the distance between them, not noticing or not caring about her uneasiness.

"Taylor Kolbeck," She tried not to grimace at his description of her, and instead stuck her hand out toward him. He glanced down in surprise but did take her hand.

"Detective Gavin Reed."

"Nice to meet you, Detective Reed." She forced herself to smile as she pulled her hand back.

"I remember you now. You were on that kid show. _Chloe's Corner?_" His grey eyes trailed down her body, and even though she was wearing jeans, boots, and a jacket, she felt suddenly exposed. "You're certainly grown up now."

"That was a long time ago," was the only thing she could think to say as Gavin took another step closer. He was only an inch or two taller than her, but she felt like he was looming over her now. Her heart was thrumming in her chest as she tried to lean away.

"Good morning, Miss Kolbeck." Taylor sucked in a breath when she heard the familiar voice of Connor behind her. Gavin moved his gaze over her shoulder, glaring at the android. "You're here early."

"Good morning, Connor!" She turned her body toward him so that her back was to Gavin, hoping that they couldn't hear the distress in her voice, but knowing that Connor probably could. She realized her hands were shaking and shoved them in the pockets of her jacket.

"Our friend the plastic detective is back in town!" Gavin's voice came from over her right shoulder, laced with sarcasm. Connor ignored him, his brown eyes fixed on her blue, his eyebrows drawn down in that now familiar look of concern.

Gavin finally stepped around her to approach the android and she let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. She retreated to the counter and turned away from the two of them, glancing around for the coffee mugs. They were still talking, but she couldn't focus past the buzzing in her ears.

Her eyes found the stack of Styrofoam cups and she reached for one. Her fingers were still trembling, and she dropped it, cursing under her breath. She up righted it and reached for the carafe of coffee, trying to steady her hand. Of course, she failed miserably and spilled several small puddles across the counter. "Shit."

A hand reached past her and took the carafe from her. She recognized the grey jacket sleeve but still flinched as his fingers brushed against hers. Connor immediately took a step away from her, taking the cup with him and pouring the coffee for her.

"Miss Kolbeck, are you alright? Your stress levels are very high." He pushed the cup toward her and began wiping up the coffee she had spilled. Glancing around, she realized that Gavin had left.

"You can read my stress levels?" She asked instead of answering his question. She continued to take deep breaths in her nose, trying to relax. When she could trust her grip, she reached for the coffee and brought the cup to her lips.

"Yes. When I entered, your stress levels were at 64% and climbing." Connor told her this matter-of-factly. "Did Detective Reed say something to upset you?"

"No," she answered softly, "He didn't say anything. I was overreacting." She took her cup and headed back out of the lounge, walking over towards the desk across from Hank's and taking a seat. Connor trailed behind her, giving her that same inquisitive stare with his head tilted to the side. She took a seat while he explored the lieutenant's desk.

"What do you know about the Lieutenant?" Connor asked as he looked over a couple boxes of donuts and a music player on one side of the desk. Taylor was sure the same donuts had been there yesterday.

"Almost nothing. He responded to a call at my house once, when I was younger. I saw him one other time." She shrugged. Connor turned and pinned her with his gaze again, his eyes narrowed as he scanned her face. She was suddenly struck with how human he seemed, how his facial expressions appeared to shift with emotions. "Hey, you aren't searching my file or something, are you? You said you wouldn't do that!"

He had the grace to look abashed as he lowered his gaze to the desk again. "I am only trying to learn more about you."

"Us humans call that snooping." She arched her eyebrows at him. "You're pretty nosy for an android, you know."

"I am designed to integrate seamlessly with humans." Connor informed her. Taylor laughed.

"Fair enough, I know plenty of humans that are nosier than you." She tilted her head as she studied him, mimicking his usual posture, before she said quietly, "Hank responded to the call when my mother died."

Connor's head snapped up as he met her eyes again. After a moment, he asked, "How did she die?"

"She killed herself." Taylor blinked rapidly, fighting down the sudden wave of emotion. She hadn't talked about it in a long time. "I came home and found her. She shot herself."

"I'm sorry." She looked up to find Connor staring at her, his jaw clenched, LED flashing between yellow and red.

"There's nothing to be sorry about. She was never a very happy person." Taylor shrugged and reached for her coffee again, anything to do with her hands as a distraction. "And after the... well, it was kind of a tough time. It didn't take much to push her over the edge."

"I'm sorry that you had to go through it." He said, reiterating.

"Thanks," she mumbled.

"Jesus, did someone die over here or what?" Hank said, announcing his arrival. Taylor winced at his choice of words and tracked him as he walked toward his desk. Connor immediately moved away from his chair and stood at attention.

"Good morning, Lieutenant." He stood straight, his hands folded behind his back and giving Hank his complete attention. This only earned him a sour look in return. "Actually—"

"We were just talking." Taylor cut in before he could say more, giving Connor a pointed look. The android just furrowed his brow in confusion, missing her point entirely. She changed the subject instead, "Nice of you to show up today."

"Listen here, smartass—" Hank turned his look on her and was fully ready to start yelling until the voice of Captain Fowler cut him off.

"Hank! In my office, now!" She tried not to laugh at the look on Hank's face as he groaned and headed for the Captain's office. Connor immediately followed, glancing back at her as though expecting her to come along as well. Taylor shook her head, remaining contentedly seated in her chair. It wasn't her place to be involved in the office politics, after all, and she had received enough of a scolding the day before.

Still, she couldn't help but glance through the glass ever so often. The two men were clearly arguing about something, with Connor standing in the back at attention. His brown eyes glanced in her direction and she slid down in the chair, averting her gaze. One of the arguments must have been about her.

When the two finally returned, Hank's mood had not improved. He dropped into his chair, still muttering angrily to himself under his breath. Taylor slid her chair to the end of the desk to make room as Connor came around to sit next to her at the computer.

"I get the impression my presence causes you some inconvenience, Lieutenant." She glanced between the two of them, wondering what Hank had said in the Captain's office to warrant such a statement. "I'd like you to know I'm very sorry about that."

Hank ignored him. Connor pushed on though, despite the awkwardness of the situation. "In any case, I'd like you to know I'm very happy to be working with you."

"Me too," Taylor said, joining the conversation in an attempt to rescue the floundering android. It was kind of endearing how much Connor was trying to gain Hank's approval, even though the lieutenant was totally impervious. He did glance up at her briefly with something akin to a scowl when she spoke, as if warning her not to encourage this.

"What's your dog's name?" Connor asked, doing his familiar head tilt.

"How the fuck did you know I have a dog?" Hank asked, finally looking over.

"The dog hairs on your chair." Connor replied matter-of-factly, looking oddly proud at his deduction. "I like dogs." Taylor couldn't suppress her smile at that one. Hank looked down at his chair and then back at the android skeptically. A moment passed where it didn't seem like he was going to answer, and Connor's brown eyes shifted down to his hands.

"Sumo." Hank finally grumbled. "His name is Sumo."

Connor's face lit up, and almost-smile coming to his face at the response that made her heart suddenly stutter. She turned away from the conversation and started fiddling with her phone but couldn't stop stealing glances as he continued to pepper the older officer with questions. He acted so much more human than any android she'd ever met. _Any that wasn't deviant, anyway_.

She hadn't realized she was staring at him until he turned to meet her eyes again. "Do you want to review the cases as well?"

"Oh. Right." She slid her chair closer as he scrolled through the huge number of cases involving deviants. He must have been going slower for her benefit, she knew how quickly he could analyze text. They worked in silence for a little while, until Connor pointed out a case that had happened the night before involving a female android assaulting her owner and escaping with his daughter.

"I think this would be a good place to start the investigation." Connor said, turning towards Hank, who was still completely ignoring the both of them.

"Listen, I know you're not thrilled to be stuck with us, but not doing anything isn't going to end it any sooner. The faster we solve this, the faster it's over, right?" Taylor fixed him with her eyes and stared him down. It wasn't long before Hank sighed and stood, grabbing his coat.

"Fine, but we're getting lunch first."


	7. Spirits

**The Strumbellas – Spirits **

Connor glanced over the sign that read Chicken Feed and then the lieutenant's back as he walked towards it. He had just been ordered to remain in the vehicle, but Taylor ducked her head back down to the car window and smiled at him. "Come on."

He trailed behind her obediently as they joined Hank at the window. Hank was talking to a man about placing a bet, but the blonde just glanced at them before focusing on the menu, seemingly unfazed by whatever illegal activities they were discussing. When his business concluded, he joined them, giving Connor a sour look.

"They don't have salads here," he told Taylor.

"Good to know," she responded, focusing on the man behind the counter. "Can I get the jalapeno cheddar burger, extra bacon. And Cajun fries, please." Hank snorted at her, but she just raised her eyebrows at him as she paid for her food. "Don't be jealous because you can't eat spicy food, old man."

"Yeah, yeah." Connor looked between the lieutenant and the blonde woman, analyzing their interaction. They still sounded like they were arguing, but the tone was different than their first encounter at the crime scene. Was this what humans referred to as teasing? He would need more analysis to be sure. There did not seem to be any markers of hostility between the two as they collected their food and headed toward a table.

"Did you have to bring the plastic asshole? It doesn't even eat." Hank complained as Connor joined them.

"He is our partner." Taylor replied as though scolding a child while she emptied several ketchup packets over her fries. "You can't leave him in the car like luggage."

"Might as well be luggage." Hank grumbled as he lifted his own burger in his hands

"Your meal contains 1.4 times the recommended daily intake of calories and twice the cholesterol level." Connor finally spoke up just as Hank was about to take a bite. "You shouldn't eat that."

"Everybody's gotta die of something." Hank replied, taking a bite as if in protest. Connor glanced over at Taylor, who was already shoving fries in her mouth.

"Your meal has—"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence." She cut him off, pointing a french-fry at him. "I don't need that kind of negativity in my life, thanks."

Connor looked between the two again as they continued to eat in contented silence. Finally, he decided to speak, "Is there anything you'd like to know about me?"

"Hell no," Hank responded immediately, causing Taylor to roll her eyes as she took another bite of her burger. "Well, yeah, um... why did they make you look so goofy and give you that weird voice?"

"That's his way of asking why you're so attractive," the blonde said, laughing at the glare the lieutenant gave her in response. Connor blinked in surprise, his LED swirling yellow for a moment as Taylor grinned at him. "Are you sure you weren't designed to be a Traci model?"

"Jesus Christ, I'm going to puke." Hank frowned down at his food while Taylor continued to giggle next to him, looking to the android for a response.

"I was not designed with Traci programming. CyberLife androids are designed to work harmoniously with humans. Both my appearance and voice were specifically designed to facilitate my integration." Connor answered, trying to keep the hint of uncertainty out of his voice.

"Humans respond better to pretty people." Taylor confirmed with a nod, still grinning up at Hank as he glared back at her. Connor's LED flashed yellow again. He felt like he was missing something.

"Can I ask you a personal question, Lieutenant?" Hank raised his eyebrows at the sudden change in subject but nodded for him to continue. "Why do you hate androids so much?"

"I have my reasons." The lieutenant responded simply. Connor's brow furrowed at the vague response, but he didn't know what to say in reply.

"Maybe I should tell you both what we know about deviants?" He suggested instead, drawing Taylor's eyes away from Hank and to him.

"Yes, please," she said with a hint of excitement. "I want to know what CyberLife thinks about deviants."

"We believe that a mutation occurs in the software of some androids which can lead to them emulating human emotions—"

"In English, please," Hank interrupted, frowning.

"They don't really feel emotions, they just get overwhelmed by irrational instructions, which can lead to unpredictable behavior." Connor explained.

"Emotions always screw everything up." Hank conceded.

"A software error? They're seriously going with that?" Taylor grimaced at her food and sat the half-eaten burger down, reaching for a napkin.

"So what do you know about deviants? You're supposed to be the expert." Hank turned his attention to the blonde as she twisted her hands in her lap. Connor could detect the sudden rise in her stress levels. He found himself wanting to search through her profiles again, but had promised he would not, so he waited for her to answer.

"Well—" Hank's phone rang, cutting her sentence off. The lieutenant checked the screen and cursed.

"It's Chris," He informed them as he stepped away to take the call. Connor watched him go before turning back to Taylor, still anticipating her response, only to find her blue eyes fixed on his face. Her eyebrows were drawn down, lips quirked into a frown.

"You know, you don't act like other androids." She spoke softly, her eyes still scanning him. His LED flashed yellow again.

"I am a prototype." Connor said by way of response. Her frown deepened, but she didn't say anything else. He had a feeling he had said the wrong thing somehow, but before he could consider it, Hank returned.

"We have a tip on the android. Let's go."

* * *

Taylor hung back as Hank and Connor spoke to the cops on scene, glancing around at their surroundings. There was a bus stop nearby where the android and child had gotten off and proceeded to the convenient store. The cashier said that the female android had asked him for help and left with the child when he refused them.

"She wouldn't have gone far if she had a kid with her," Taylor muttered to herself, glancing both ways down the street.

"I agree," Connor said from beside her, making her jump. She hadn't noticed his approach. "We have locked down the area while we search. Do you have any specific places you think a deviant might go?"

"It was cold, and she had a child with her. They would have to find someplace warm, sheltered from the rain." Taylor's eyes fell on the two-story house across the street. "Deviants usually gravitate to places that are abandoned by humans. For safety."

Connor followed her gaze to the house, his LED flashing a familiar yellow as he tilted his head to consider the building. He paused for a beat, then said, "We should check it out."

She trailed him across the road and toward the fence that surrounded the house, watching his brown eyes scan the area for any signs of the deviants. She walked towards a run-down car to the far side of the lot, peering into the windows.

"Here," Connor's voice came from behind her, and she turned to find him kneeling by the chain link. There was a hole near the bottom that looked to be cut out, just big enough for a person to slip through. "There is thirium on the fence. You were right."

Connor looked up at her and smiled. She felt her heart skip a beat, hoping that the android didn't notice as he pushed the fence out of the way and crawled through the hole, holding it open for her to follow.

"Be careful," he advised, offering his hand to help her to her feet. Taylor accepted it, peering up into his face again. He really was unnecessarily attractive, she thought again, noticing the freckles that spattered his cheeks and the one rebel lock of brown hair that had fallen across his forehead. Connor released her hand and reached up to adjust his tie.

"Find something?" Hank's voice brought her back to reality. She turned to see the lieutenant standing on the other side of the fence, hands on his hips. "Or are you two just sneaking off to make out?"

Taylor felt the heat creeping up her neck, mostly because she had been ogling the android a few seconds before the accusation and appreciating his appealing features. Hank raised his eyebrows at her in amusement, proud of his joke at her expense.

"Make out?" Connor asked from her side, his tone innocently perplexed as he tilted his head, making Taylor internally scream. His LED flickered yellow and she knew he must be searching for what the term meant. She could tell the exact moment he figured it out, for he turned to her with his face a mask of doubt.

"Actually," Taylor responded, interrupting before the android could say anything more mortifying, "we found a trail."

This seemed to remind Connor of his mission, because he turned back to Hank and nodded in affirmation. She released a small sigh of relief. "Yes, Miss Kolbeck suggested that the deviant may have been hiding in this abandoned house. There are traces of thirium on the fence there where someone has cut through."

"Well let's check it out, then." Hank said, crawling through the hole in the fence after them. The trio walked around toward the front of the house, taking in the boarded windows and overgrown grass that surrounded the porch. Hank pulled out his gun and stepped in front of them as they approached the door.

There was an android standing in the middle of the room as they stepped inside, but it was not the one they were looking for. He was tall and blonde, staring at the three of them in near horror. Hank immediately pointed his gun at the deviant, his blue eyes falling on the knife in its hand. "Detroit Police! Freeze!"

"Where is the AX400?" Connor asked, his brown eyes doing a sweep of the room. Taylor couldn't look away from the other android's face. It was horribly damaged, the wiring visible through his left cheek. She wondered if he could still see out of his left eye.

"R-Ralph hasn't seen any other androids." He said, looking even more nervous as Connor started to search the room. She glanced down at his arms, which were damaged as well, wondering if his owners had been responsible.

There was a sudden bang from behind her, and she turned to see the AX400 running out of the open door, dragging a little girl behind her. Connor jumped up from the floor, where the android must have shoved him before fleeing, and immediately ran off in pursuit.

"Connor? Shit!" Hank ran after them, gun still in his hand, disappearing out the door.

Taylor turned back to the android in the room, her eyes wide. The android seemed to take a moment processing that they were now alone, his LED flashing between yellow and red, before it raised the knife in his hand toward her. Her hands leapt up into a position of surrender as a reflex, making the android flinch.

"Whoa, I don't want to hurt you." She said quickly, trying to keep the terror from her voice.

"Liar! Humans always try to hurt Ralph. You want to hurt Ralph's friends, too." His eyes shifted from her to the door, where the AX400 had fled. Taylor shook her head, drawing his attention back to her immediately as he waved the knife closer to her face.

"What happened to you?" She kept her voice soft. Ralph looked at her suspiciously as he closed the distance between them, pressing the knife against the hollow of her throat. "Who hurt you?"

"Ralph was just doing his job. The humans attacked Ralph. They hit him over and over and over—"

"I'm so sorry." Taylor felt tears pricking the corners of her eyes, trying not to wince at the tip of the knife broke her skin. She wasn't sure if she was sad for the android or terrified that he was about to kill her. "You must have been so frightened."

"Ralph was scared." He finally lowered the knife a bit, allowing her to breathe properly. "Ralph thought he was going to die."

"But you didn't." Taylor said carefully. She reached her hand out slowly, hesitantly, and placed her fingers over his on the knife. She could feel his synthetic muscle tense under her touch, his hands trembling slightly, his mismatched eyes wide as they stared at their touching hands. "You survived. You're a survivor."

"A... survivor?" Ralph repeated the words as though he had never heard them, his LED still spiraling between yellow and red.

"Yes. But you have to leave now. The police will catch you if you stay here. They're distracted by the chase outside. You can slip away." He looked back at her face, considering her words, the knife finally lowering back to his side. The seconds stretched out, feeling like hours, days, until he finally nodded.

"You're right. Ralph will escape." And just like that, he disappeared through the same door that the AX400 had fled with her two partners, leaving her standing alone in the silence of the room.

Taylor collapsed to her knees, her legs dissolving like sand beneath her. She touched the spot on her throat where the deviant had pressed his knife, her fingers coming away with blood. She was shaking all over, her breath coming out in ragged gasps as she realized she was crying.

"Miss Kolbeck? Miss Kolbeck!" Connor appeared in the doorway a moment later, his brown eyes wide, his LED a solid ring of red as he spotted her collapsed on the floor. He was across the room in a second, kneeling beside her as he looked her over for wounds. "Are you injured?"

She opened her mouth to speak but couldn't form any words. Connor reached out, his fingers brushing against her collarbone, making her flinch. He placed both of his hands on her upper arms, staring earnestly into her face. "Miss Kolbeck, you are in shock."

A strangled laugh that was half sob escaped her, high pitched and awful to her own ears. She couldn't stop the tears that were still running down her face. Connor stood and, faster than she could process, slid his arms under her knees and her back to lift her from the floor. Her fingers curled around the lapels of his coat, trying to steady herself from the sudden shift in gravity. "Wh-what—"

"I will take you back to the car." He informed her in his matter-of-fact tone, adding softly, "You're safe now."

Oddly enough, she did feel safer. Connor was extremely warm to the touch, his body still overheated from the running. She could hear the whirring of his internal fans trying to cool him off as he carried her. She leaned into his chest and closed her eyes, repeating the words over and over in her head. _You're safe now_.

"What happened to the other android?" When she finally opened her eyes again, she found Hank staring at the two of them dubiously.

"He escaped," she said, gratefully that her voice was finally steady. Connor lowered her back to her feet, his arm lingering on her back, his eyes still scanning her for an injury he might have missed.

"He escaped." Hank repeated, glaring at her.

"You left me alone with an armed deviant!" She shouted back at him, her voice cracking. Hank seemed to realize that she was still shaking, and the gravity of the situation sank in. He looked her over, his eyes finding the trickle of blood on her throat, and his face crumpled with guilt. It wasn't as satisfying as she had anticipated. She pushed past him and headed down the sidewalk, muttering, "I'm going home."

Taylor shoved her hands in the pockets of her coat as she hurried away, ignoring the stares of the cops who were still on the scene. The faster she walked, the more the colors around her started to blur. Her hands were still shaking in her pockets, so she balled them into fists and ducked her head.

The sudden hand on her arm elicited a squeal that she just managed to keep from a scream. Connor pulled his hand away, his LED flashing red in alarm. "Miss Kolbeck, you shouldn't be alone. You are still in shock." He held up the small first aid kit in his hands, "And you are injured."

"It's just a scratch," she said, shaking her head, turning to go.

"Taylor." Connor placed his hand on her forearm again, his voice pleading. He had never called her by her first name and it made her pause. She turned back to him, her blue eyes meeting his brown, and remembered the moment of peace she had felt when he was holding her. Now she felt like she was crumbling to pieces and she just wanted to be alone. "Please let me help you."

_No_, her head was shouting it, trying to pull her arm away, to turn and run. But she was caught in his gaze. In the light of the sun, his eyes had bright rings of copper that flickered as he scanned over her face, his brows drawn down in concern. Instead, she found herself saying, "Okay."

He sat her down on the nearest bench, opening the first aid kit. She watched him remove the gauze from its packaging in silence, her vision blurring again, colors swirling into a kaleidoscope of nothing. Connor's long fingers brushed her collar again as he wiped the blood from her skin. She winced as the disinfectant touched the open spot on the hollow of her throat.

"I'm sorry." Taylor looked at the android across from her, but his eyes were focused on her neck, his jaw clenched. "I shouldn't have left you alone." He paused. "You shouldn't have been at the crime scene. It's dangerous."

"Connor." His eyelashes fluttered as he looked into her eyes again, and she released a breath as his LED flickered to blue from the angry circle of red it had been a moment before. "It's okay." She reached over squeezed his hand. "Thanks for coming back."

Connor looked down at their hands, his LED flashing yellow for a brief second, before he closed his fingers around hers. "I will take you home."


	8. Castle

**Halsey - Castle**

Taylor slid in her earbuds and hit play on her phone, closing her eyes for a brief second as the music started pounding in her ears. She tightened the laces on her shoes and stood, then shifted her eyes to the handgun resting on the counter. Checking the safety, she slid the gun into the back of her pants and pulled her jacket down over it. She had calculated the safest route in the neighborhood for her run, but even the safest route in Detroit could still be dangerous.

With the music playing in her head, she set off. The rhythmic pace of her feet hitting the concrete soothed her nerves. The exhaustion in her bones was forgotten momentarily in the high of the run. She was circling back onto her street, clicking her music off, when she realized her feet on the sidewalk weren't alone.

She pulled the gun as she turned, coming face to face with the shocked face of an android. Or, she thought he was an android. He didn't have an LED, but it was something in his stance as he raised his hands in surrender, his eyes wide and focused on the barrel of the gun.

"Who are you?" She demanded, her voice still breathless from running. The light was dim. It was early morning still, the sun not even visible over the horizon, streetlights illuminating the sidewalk in broken orbs of light. She had stopped under one of them, the yellow light surrounding her in a glowing halo. The male slowly stepped forward into the light, hands still raised, so that she could see his face.

"I didn't mean to frighten you." He said, his tone conciliatory. His eyes kept shifting nervously between the gun and her face, and she realized one of them was blue, the other green. "My name is Markus."

"Still doesn't explain who you are." Taylor said in return, her gun still trained on his chest. "Or why you're following me."

"I met an android" Markus said. He stopped looking at the gun and stared directly into her eyes. "He said that you saved him. You let him escape."

She narrowed her eyes at him but said nothing. He had to be an android. There was something intense and sad about his eyes, but she was wondering if it was just an effect of the mismatched colors.

"I did some research on you. Not the first time you've helped an android, is it?"

"Anyone with an internet connection could have figured that out. What do you want?"

"I'm an android." She sighed, not realizing until that moment how relieved that made her. "I am here to ask for your help."

Taylor lowered the gun a fraction. "With what?"

"The revolution."

* * *

Taylor took a deep breath in and released it slowly, trying to block out the cacophony of noise around her. She could already feel the heat of the lights on her skin, a bead of sweat forming along her hairline. Her blonde locks had been braided over her right shoulder, but one errant lock kept falling into her left eye. She compulsively reached up and pushed it back.

"We're on in 30 seconds." She folded her hands in her lap and straightened her posture. Her eyes fell on the man sitting across from her at the desk. Michael Brinkley was studying his prompts, ignoring both her and the makeup woman dabbing powder across his forehead. "3... 2... 1."

"Good morning, America! Today we have an exclusive interview with elusive social media influencer and android supporter Taylor Kolbeck." Taylor plastered on a smile as the cameras focused on her, looking straight into the lens.

"I'm not sure daily posting on social media qualifies me as elusive, Michael." She joked, watching him try not to grimace as he laughed with her. She knew he despised her. He'd made it obvious in the brief introduction they'd had upon her arrival. "I am happy to be here, though."

"Let me officially welcome you to Detroit. You are here investigating deviant cases with Detroit PD, correct?" He fixed her with his steel grey eyes, cutting right to the quick. But she had played this game before and wasn't about to let him win.

"I believe you mean welcome back. I was born and raised in Detroit." She smiled again and let the pause linger for a second before continuing, "But you're right, I am here working with DPD. I've already met so many great men and women who dedicate their lives to protecting the people of Detroit."

"That's wonderful to hear. I'm sure they've welcomed you with open arms." They shared another smile, more like a baring of teeth, before the real questions began, "Some of your fanbase is a little confused about this though. You've been an extremely outspoken supporter of android rights since the very beginning. Isn't this a betrayal of everything you've stood for thus far?"

"I can understand how some people might interpret it that way." Taylor nodded, her face a mask of understanding. "But my stance on equal rights for androids has not changed. Deviant androids are people who can think, feel, and decide for themselves."

"And yet you're working with the Detroit police to imprison these freethinking deviants?" Michael feigned a look of shock, his eyebrows raised, the lines in his forehead becoming prominent despite the layer of makeup plastered there.

"When humans commit crimes, we also imprison them." She responded congenially with a shrug.

"So you're only working with the police to go after criminals?" He asked, a tone of skepticism in his voice now. He was good at this, she conceded. Still not winning.

"That is my intention. I think it is important to understand why deviants are committing these crimes. What do they have in common? What situations are they in when they become violent? If androids are going to receive the support of the people, these are things we have to know." She tried her best to sound neutral, like she could be on either side, but Michael could see right through her.

"What have you found?" He asked doing a splendid job of replicating real interest. She smiled at him sweetly.

"I'm afraid I'm bound by contract not to discuss details of the investigation." Taylor gave him an apologetic shrug, but he was ready for her.

"The local news reported a deviant that you helped capture just a couple of days ago. He confessed to murder, if those stories are true." She felt the blood draining from her face. Michael smirked at her, knowing he had at least won this round. "Would you like to offer some insight in to why an android would murder an innocent man in his own home?"

"I think you and I might have to debate on the meaning of innocent." He leaned in, eyes flashing as his eyebrows raised in surprise. A shark smelling blood in the water.

"So he deserved to be murdered?" He asked neutrally, as if he was really asking her opinion. And maybe he was. The color that had left her face now came back with a vengeance, the heat crawling up her neck, bead of sweat rolling down her temple. The light was glaring down in her face.

"I suppose that would have been up to the jury, had he been allowed a trial." She swallowed, her mouth as dry as the Mojave. Her tongue felt like sandpaper against the roof of her mouth. "Unfortunately, androids are not allowed to defend themselves in the court of law."

It was a weak recovery, but it took a little of the wind out of Michael's sails. She took a deep breath in her nose and waited for his next question. "Then you do believe that deviant androids should be made into full U.S. citizens?"

"Absolutely." She responded without hesitation, knowing he was baiting her again. She braced herself for the other shoe to drop.

"What would you say to the many people whose entire income and wellbeing rely on the CyberLife company? Factory workers, shareholders, thousands of families displaced in an instant with the loss of android production?" He raised his eyebrows at her again, the condescension apparent as he looked at her.

Her hands curled into fists beneath the table, but she didn't avert her gaze. Her blue eyes bored into his steely grey as she stared him down, and her face suddenly broke into another smile that was one beat away from a snarl. "I suppose I would say the same thing that I imagine our ancestors said when they finally freed the slaves. Find something else to do."

There was a silence after her statement so profound that she could hear Michael's breathing. His nostrils flared, and the rage she could see burning in his eyes made her heart stutter for a moment, before he suddenly turned to the camera with his news anchor smile. "We'll be right back after these messages with more from Taylor Kolbeck."

He continued smiling until the man behind the camera held up a hand and the camera lights faded off. In a second, he was on his feet, looming over her. "You agreed not to—"

She rose from her chair, matching his glare. "I. Lied. You brought me on this show to bait me and make me look like an idiot."

"You are a vapid, useless little girl who is only famous for looking pretty in pictures." His voice was a growl, red splotches covering his face.

"And I'm still worth more than you," she snarled in return. He sputtered, and she narrowed her eyes as she pointed a finger into his chest. "If you thought I would come here and keep my mouth shut then you don't know shit about me."

"Uh, guys, we're back in thirty seconds," The cameraman was leaning to the side to peer at them from around the camera, his eyes jumping between the two of them uncertainly. Taylor glanced around, realizing the entire room was staring, some with their jaws open. She was trembling in fury, but for a moment she felt a touch of embarrassment.

"I'm not." She spun on her heel and walked out, brushing past several crew members as she headed for the exit and ignoring the scrambling behind her as they rushed to prepare to go back live without her.


	9. Gods & Monsters

**Lana Del Ray – Gods & Monsters**

Taylor blackened the screen of her phone as Alex's name popped up again. She held the power button and slid the icon on the screen until the device went dark for good, completely off. She knew she couldn't avoid him for too long or he would be on the next flight to Detroit to throttle her, but she wasn't ready to talk about it.

Slipping her lanyard over her head, she ducked into the staff entrance of the precinct while avoiding eye contact with the people waiting in the lobby. Thankfully, no one noticed her, and it was the only stroke of luck she'd had all day.

"Miss Kolbeck!" She winced as she sat her bag down on the desk next to Hank's. Glancing up, she met the angry gaze of Captain Fowler. He was standing in the door of his office, glaring down at her. "My office! Now!"

She could have shriveled up and died on the spot as everyone in the office turned to stare at her. Straightening her spine, she walked toward the glass office avoiding their sympathetic gazes. They had probably all gone through this walk of shame at one point or another, she mused.

Fowler was already seated behind his desk when she entered the room, so his glare was at maximum effectiveness as she crossed the room to sink into the chair across from him. He let the silence permeate for a few moments before he spoke.

"I told you when you came here not to turn my station into a media shit show."

"Captain—"

"Shut up." His tone silenced her immediately. She felt like a child being scolded, like she had been called to the principal's office. "You are going to listen. For once. I have had to assign officers to stand outside and turn reporters away. Not only are they here for you, now they all want to know the details of these deviant cases."

He paused, pinching the bridge of his nose as he sighed. "Meanwhile, there are real crimes going on in this city. I can't afford to play ringleader to this circus and I certainly don't have the manpower to be wasting cops. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Taylor ducked her head, staring at her hands for a moment, before she looked up and locked eyes with the police captain. She could see the lines in his face, the hard set of his jaw, and could almost feel the exhaustion in his bones mirrored in her own. She wondered how long he had been a cop. She wondered if he knew about her history with Hank. She wondered how much he knew about her childhood.

"I apologize." She said finally. His eyebrows twitched upwards for just a moment, the only tell that she had surprised him. No doubt he had expected her to start listing off excuses. She had none.

"Give me a reason why I shouldn't take that badge you're wearing and kick you out of my police station." Taylor opened her mouth to fire back, to say that she deserved to be here, that she had been instrumental in finding the deviants on both crime scenes she had been on, and that she_ had _to do this.

Instead, she said, "I don't have one." She sensed that Captain Fowler didn't want to hear any of her reasons. He leaned back in his chair and considered her again.

"You're lucky," he began, arching an eyebrow at her, "that I hate that asshole. He always makes my cops look bad on the news." She felt the smile stretching over her face, even as he noticed and scowled at her. "If you purposely draw attention to this case again, I will kick you out. Don't test me again."

"Yes, sir." She exited the office as quickly as she could, while she was still ahead. As she descended the steps from Fowler's office, she found that Connor was standing near the bottom, waiting for her.

"Good morning, Connor." He must have been drawn out by the Captain's yelling; she hadn't seen him when she'd walked in. He nodded.

"Good morning, Miss Kolbeck." She was still smiling over her small victory in the office as she walked for their desk. Connor trailed after her.

"Are you ever going to call me Taylor?" She asked, raising her eyebrows at him as she took her seat. One look at Hank's desk told her that the lieutenant hadn't arrived yet. The same arrangement of mess was splayed across it as her first day at the precinct. Connor hesitated at the end of the desk, glancing between her and his own seat.

"Taylor," he amended, his LED flickering yellow for the briefest second. She grinned as he took a seat.

"Better. So, Connor, what are we going to do while we wait for Hank?"

"You seem to be in better spirits today." Connor observed. Taylor watched his eyes as they moved back and forth over her face, knowing that he was probably scanning her again for stress levels or heart rate or however he knew how she was feeling.

He had accompanied her in the taxi home yesterday and talked about the deviants that had gotten away because Hank had refused to let him cross the highway, then continued speaking about other deviant cases he had noted that might offer them a lead on the case, filling up the silence until they reached her house and he informed her that her stress levels were down to an acceptable range. At some point while he was talking, her hands had stopped shaking. She had stopped remembering the knife pressed to her throat over and over again.

"I didn't get fired from the case, so there's that." She shrugged. "Hey, you said you downloaded the blueprints to this place when we first met, right? We should explore."

"There aren't a lot of areas that we have access to." Connor told her, watching her as she stood and stepped back around the desk.

"Then it won't take that long. It's better than sitting here and staring at the computer." She placed her hands on her hips and stared at him expectantly. He stared back for just a moment before giving in and joining her.

* * *

Connor led Taylor around the station, though they made slow progress. She stopped to talk to nearly everyone that they passed, so much so that Connor was starting to suspect that it may have been her primary objective from the start. He stood a step or two behind her and observed her conversation with a multitude of Detroit police officers.

She made it seem effortless, greeting each person with a smile, shaking their hands and asking them about themselves. Her face was perfectly attentive as they told her all manner of things, from perfectly mundane small talk to details about their personal lives. She was delighted when they came across Chris Miller again and asked after his wife. When she found out he also had a three-month-old son named Damian, they spent a few moments bent over his phone looking at pictures.

"Sorry if I'm boring you," she said a little while later as they circled back toward the desks.

"I don't get bored," he responded. Taylor glanced away. His LED flickered yellow, and he had the feeling that he'd had at the Chicken Feed the day before, that he'd said the wrong thing. But she turned back with a smile just a moment later and excused herself, saying she had to call her agent.

"32 messages, Alex? Really?" The blonde's expression was full of amusement as she leaned her elbows into the desk. She balanced the phone in the crook of her neck as she continued to dig in her bag. "Please tell me you aren't getting on a plane."

She finally extracted her ear buds from the purse and busied herself with transferring the call to them. She didn't notice that the bag was halfway off the edge of the desk, absorbed in whatever Alex was now yelling in her ears, but Connor did. He tried to reach around her to catch it before it fell, but the strap slid through his fingers anyway.

Taylor turned with a groan when she heard the thump. She leaned over and started shoving items back into the purse while Connor collected the few that had rolled away under the desk. He returned with a tube of mascara, two pens, and a pack of gum. Kneeling, he caught sight of another object that had rolled all the way to the edge of the desk.

**Alprazolam 1 mg PO TID**

**Take as needed for anxiety**

The bottle disappeared from his hand so quickly that it took a moment for him to realize that Taylor had snatched it away, shoving it back into her purse. He glanced up to find her staring back at him, blue eyes wide, her face blanched white.

"So someone on the crew was recording after the cameras were off and posted the video?" She was still listening to whatever Alex was saying in her ear, but she followed him with her gaze as he stood and took the seat beside her. "I'm not sure what you want me to say. I'm not sorry."

Connor's LED was a solid yellow ring as he continued to consider the bottle of medication He was thinking back to the previous morning and Taylor's encounter with Detective Reed. Later in the afternoon, her state of shock after being threatened by that deviant. When she had told him about her mother killing herself.

"I'll think about it. Send me the information." The conversation seemed to be drawing to a close. Connor studied Taylor's side profile as she swiped through the screens on her phone, nodding along to whatever her agent was still saying on the other line. He tried to place the pieces of the puzzle together with the always smiling blonde he had come to know over the past couple of days but couldn't reconcile the two.

Lieutenant Anderson had many personal issues. He had figured that out very quickly, and though he didn't know the details of why he hated androids or distracted himself by drinking, he was working on it. Now he was starting to suspect that Taylor had her own personal issues that weren't quite as obvious.

"No, I'm staying in the house." She paused, closing her eyes with a sigh. "It's fine. I'm fine. Thanks, Alex. I'll talk to you later. And I'm going to listen to every single one of those messages."

Taylor ended the call and turned her chair to face his, startled when she found him still staring intently at her face. "Your agent seems concerned about you." Connor observed, thinking she might offer more specifics if he started the conversation.

"He's been my agent for a long time. He's more like family. Which means he likes to worry about me for no reason." Taylor flashed him another smile, but Connor had been watching her smile all morning. He was starting to detect the subtle differences in them, how sometimes, like now, they didn't reach her eyes.

"Why would he be concerned about you staying in your house?" Connor asked. Her expression faltered.

"It's my childhood home. It's weird being back there." She said nonchalantly.

"My programming allows me to detect when people are lying." Connor responded conversationally. Taylor stared at him in disbelief, her eyes wide, lips slightly parted.

"Why are you asking me this? What does it matter?" Taylor shifted and turned her chair away again. Connor's LED flickered, but he was unsure of what to say to backtrack over his mistake now that she was angry.

"Are you two going to be like this every time I come in?" Hank grumbled as he walked past them to his desk.

"Not if you'd come to work on time." Taylor smiled into the disgruntled look that Hank sent her way. Connor watched again as the blonde seamlessly changed her expression, all the turmoil from just a moment ago evaporating as she sat forward in her chair. "It's not like we can go look for deviants without you."

"You won't be coming with us next time." Hank said as he fell into his chair. Taylor was stunned into silence for just a moment, before she scowled at the older detective.

"What do you mean I'm not coming?"

"It's too dangerous for you to be at active crime scenes. You aren't a cop. You don't even have a gun." Hank said dismissively as he looked over the files that had been left on his desk, clearly avoiding her eyes.

"Then let me carry a gun." Connor could detect the blonde's stress levels rising, her posture shifting to aggressive. Hank stared at her, deadpan. "I have my concealed carry license. I know how to shoot."

"Absolutely not." The lieutenant was shaking his head.

"Taylor's expertise has been essential in locating deviants at previous crime scenes." Connor spoke up as the two glared each other down. She blinked at him in surprise. He had said the same thing to her yesterday afternoon before he took her home. She smiled at him now, the anger from his questioning a moment before now forgotten.

"Thank you, Connor." She turned back to Hank, "I also have permission from CyberLife and the Captain to be here. You can't leave me behind."

"What do you think they're gonna do if you get murdered, huh? Maybe they'll post it on social media for you so you can get some more likes." Taylor flushed, red coloring her cheeks and her neck. Both hands were clenched on the arms of her chair, but Hank wasn't finished. "Hell, CyberLife will probably throw a party since you won't be around to talk about how much you love deviants anymore."

"I have received a report of a deviant in the area." Connor's announcement threw a blanket of silence over the two. "We should go."

"We should." Taylor agreed, standing from her chair and staring down at Hank in challenge. He continued to glare at her for another moment before sighing and standing as well.

"Let's go."


	10. Bird Set Free

**Sia – Bird Set Free**

Taylor slid into the backseat of Hank's car and looked at the screen of her phone as it vibrated in her hand. Connor slid in beside her and glanced over at the screen just as she declined the call. "Harleen Quinzel?"

"You really are insufferably nosy, you know that?" Connor looked at her in alarm, but she was grinning up at him, her eyes twinkling. He turned away and she laughed at his sudden embarrassment. "Your cheeks are blue! Are you blushing?"

"I do not blush." Taylor nodded, still grinning as she turned back to her phone. Alex had forwarded her the video that was circulating the internet of her shouting match with Michael Brinkley and subsequent storming off the set. With a sigh, she opened it. Connor was peering over her shoulder again as it played. The video lasted less than two minutes but it certainly felt longer.

"Did you cuss out that prick on the news?" She glanced up to see that Hank was looking at her in the rearview. He looked amused, and when she nodded, he said, "Good for you. That guy is an asshole."

"That's what Captain Fowler said too." She said with a laugh. "Except now I have to deal with the consequences."

"Anything worth doing has consequences." Hank said dismissively. "Especially telling people to fuck off."

Taylor laughed again, nodding in agreement. Silence settled over the car, penetrated only by Connor's intermittent directions. "Hey Hank?" He glanced up at her in the rearview again as he turned the car into the parking lot of the apartment building that was their destination. "Thanks. For worrying about me."

The lieutenant grunted in response and exited the car without another word. Taylor followed, smiling. Connor explained that the tip came from an upper floor, so they all climbed into the elevator and rode up in silence. Hank led the way as they stepped out, Taylor right behind him, but they both paused when they realized Connor wasn't following. He was standing in the elevator, eyes closed, LED a solid yellow circle.

"Hey, Connor!" The android opened his eyes, LED fading back to blue. "You run out of batteries or what?"

"I'm sorry, I was making a report to CyberLife." He trailed them down the hallway.

"What do we know about this guy?" Hank asked.

"Not much, just that the neighbor reported that he heard strange noises coming from this floor. Nobody is supposed to be living here, but the neighbor said he saw a man hiding a LED under his cap." Connor responded.

"Oh Christ, if we have to investigate every time someone hears a strange noise, we're gonna need more cops." Hank grumbled as he approached the door. Connor was looking at some feathers in the hallway, his head tilted to the side, and didn't reply. "Hey, were you really making a report back there in the elevator? Just by closing your eyes?"

"Correct," Connor nodded as he stepped up beside them, adjusting his tie.

"Shit, I wish I could do that." Hank said, causing Taylor to snort. Connor knocked on the apartment door. They waited a pause, but there was no response. Connor looked over to the lieutenant, who just shrugged, so the android knocked harder. Still nothing.

"Open up! Detroit Police!" Connor shouted. This time they were answered by a crash from somewhere in the apartment trailed by the sound of metal scraping on wood. Silence followed, the three exchanging glances while Hank drew his gun. He stepped toward the door and nodded for Connor to get behind him. The android complied, moving Taylor behind him as Hank kicked open the door.

They went down the hallway in a line. Taylor peeked into the rooms as she walked behind Hank and Connor, taking in the oddly drawn labyrinths that decorated the walls. Hank reached the end of the hallway and kicked down the next door, cursing as a scatter of pigeons flew at his face. He was still cursing when Taylor peered around Connor and into the room.

There were pigeons everywhere, and judging by the smell, they'd been living in the apartment for a while. Apart from their intermittent cooing, the apartment was quiet. Hank lowered his gun and they began to search the apartment for clues.

"Looks like we came here for nothing. Our man's gone." Hank said as he put the gun away and opened a window. Connor opened the closet and more pigeons assaulted him, causing the android to duck. "Found something?"

Connor was peeling back a poster on the wall. He pulled out a notebook and flipped through it. "I don't know. It looks like a notebook, but it's... indecipherable."

Taylor opened the fridge, but there was no food to be found. "It definitely seems like an android lives here."

"What's with all the pigeons?" Hank asked, turning away from the window. Taylor was watching Connor as he picked over the things on the floor, so it took her a few moments to realize the older detective was directing the question at her. His blue eyes were fixed on her, waiting on a response. She blinked in surprise.

She glanced around the apartment again as Connor pointed out the initials on the jacket, considering. "Imagine for a minute that you didn't have a childhood." Hank furrowed his brow but didn't interrupt. "Androids who go deviant are suddenly self-aware, and a lot of them struggle with what to do with themselves." She gestured around them. "Some deviants become fixated or obsessive on one thing. They have a hard time finding their individualism, their reason for being alive."

Hank frowned but didn't respond.

"rA9 written 2471 times." Connor's voice came from the tiny bathroom adjacent to the room they were standing in. Taylor squeezed in behind him and glanced around at the repetitive writing. "Why are they obsessed with this sign?"

"LED in the sink." She tilted her head toward the formerly blue ring resting in the porcelain. Connor glanced over at it, his own LED flashing yellow. Then he turned back toward the living space and knelt by the toppled birdcage on the floor.

"Birdseed. I can't believe it, this nutjob was actually feeding these fuckers." Hank was still looking around at all the bird droppings covering the floor in disgust. Connor stood once more, turning his head toward the hole in the ceiling, his LED still swirling yellow. Taylor and Hank were both watching him carefully now, knowing he must be on to something.

As Connor stepped closer to the gap, the deviant suddenly jumped down, knocking the other android to the ground before he fled. The sudden commotion made the pigeons in the room explode in a flurry of activity, earning another round of cursing from Hank while Connor regained his footing.

"What are you waiting for? Chase it!" The android didn't need to be told twice; he took off running in pursuit of the deviant and Taylor followed him, leaving Hank waving his arms at the fluttering birds.

The blonde spotted both androids cutting through wheat fields as soon as she hit the roof. She knew they were faster than her, but she ran a 5k every morning and she had enough endurance to keep up, so she took the safe route around the edge of the farm and kept them in her sights. It was likely that the deviant was going to eventually circle back around so she tried to figure out a way to cut it off, especially when she saw the two of them hopping on the train. She wasn't that crazy.

There was a corn field ahead, and she could see Hank running behind her now, so she waved toward it. The lieutenant was already on it though, and they both headed in that direction. As the two of them ran along the edge, the deviant suddenly burst out, shoving into Hank before running off.

"Shit! Hank!" Taylor skidded to a stop and threw herself forward, grabbing Hank's arm. She may have been fast, but she certainly wasn't strong enough to pull him back over the ledge. They were staring at each other in wide-eyed horror until Connor reached over Taylor's shoulder and grabbed Hank's other arm, easily lifting him back over the side.

Taylor stumbled back and felt Connor's hand on her back, steadying her. "It's my fault, Lieutenant. I should have been faster," he was saying to Hank, who was completely ignoring him as he stared at the blonde.

"This is exactly why you shouldn't be on the crime scene."

"What? I'm fine! You almost got shoved off the roof." She retorted. They glared at each other for a beat before Hank groaned and walked off. He paused, turning back to look at Connor.

"Hey, Connor..." The lieutenant hesitated as the two looked up at him and shook his head. "Never mind." He turned and left.

"I think he was going to say thank you. He's starting to like you," Taylor smiled up at the android. He blinked back at her, his LED flickering to yellow, before they both seemed to realize at the same moment how close they were still standing. Connor dropped his hand from her back and stepped away.

"I'm not so sure about that." He said uncertainly. Taylor reached out and touched his forearm, drawing his gaze back up to her face.

"I am," She smiled again. "Just keep at it."

Connor glanced down at her fingers and back to her eyes, his LED whirring to yellow before he nodded. She pulled her hand back and stared at him for a moment before she said, "Are you doing anything tonight?"

As soon as the words left her lips, her whole face flushed red. Connor tilted his head as he watched her flounder for something to say, looking at everything but him. "I meant that I have this party that Alex wants me to go to. For charity. If you want to come. It could be fun. It will probably be horrible and boring, but it might be fun."

"I'm not." Taylor looked up, meeting his eyes again. "Doing anything, I mean. Assuming there are no new deviant cases."

This time when Taylor smiled at him, her whole face lit up. "Great! Since it seems like Hank left us here, let's go meet the stylist."


	11. Jar of Hearts

**Christina Perri – Jar of Hearts**

Connor was fairly sure he had the concept of a stylist down based on the information he had searched for on their way to the building where he and Taylor now stood. She explained to him as well, saying that the stylist would help them dress for the night's event and get ready. In her case, that meant extensive hair and makeup.

He was more fixated on the point that he would be expected to wear a different suit. Multiple times he had raised the argument with Taylor in the taxi and while standing here, waiting for someone to appear. Each time, she had waived him off dismissively.

"I am required by CyberLife to wear my designation as an android at all times." He tried again, willing her to look up. Taylor was busy tapping away on her phone, however, and paid him almost no mind.

"Connor, it will be fine." She said again, patiently, though she still didn't bother to look up. He was about to protest again when she glanced up at his face and winked. "You have an LED, remember? Everyone will know you're an android."

He was taken aback by her sudden gesture and remained quiet. She returned to the phone screen, fully absorbed by whatever she was doing on the small device. Until the doors across the ante room finally opened, and a petite, redheaded woman swept into the room.

"Taylor, honey!" The newcomer descended on Taylor, pulling her down to kiss both of her cheeks. Then she held on, keeping Taylor at arm's length while she gave her a once over. "You look terrible. When is the last time you slept? So bad for your skin."

"Jen? What are you doing here?" Taylor was blinking at the other woman in a daze, still in a bit of shock from the whirlwind entrance. Jen had moved on, though, releasing her as she looked Connor up and down.

"Alex told me you were going out in public. Of course I came. As if I would let some plebian dress you." She said in response to Taylor's question, but she was still doing a circle around Connor. "Who is this tall drink of water?"

"This is Connor. He is one of my partners investigating the deviant cases, but he is coming with me to the party tonight. I was hoping you might have a suit." Jen turned around with her eyebrows raised, looking personally offended.

"Might have a suit, she says. Don't insult me. Now come, you're wasting time and there's much to do. Those raccoon eyes are going to take forever to hide." Taylor looked somewhat sheepish as she followed Jen back through the door from which she came. Connor hovered there for just a moment before he deduced that he was supposed to follow them.

On the other side of the door was a world entirely foreign. Mirrors lined the walls in so many places they looked to be the wallpaper itself. The lights were hot and bright and everywhere so that he felt like he had stepped out into the noonday sun. Some of the mirrors were vanities, onto which many strange tools had been arranged. Connor could only guess they were all related to the hair and makeup Taylor had mentioned, there were too many for his processors to categorize at once.

Jen had led Taylor to a row of mannequins which were displaying a series of gowns, from simple to intricate, shiny to jet black. Taylor was listening to Jen's explanation about the designer of the dress while she brushed her fingers against the fabric of the skirt. When she saw him looking around the room in a daze, she gave him a smile.

"Yes, yes, pick the one you want. I'll find a nice Armani for your android boyfriend." Jen had followed Taylor's line of sight and rolled her eyes at the blonde. Taylor's head whipped back around, but Jen was already walking off, gesturing for Connor to follow her. "Anton is in the back. He'll help you get dressed. I'll come back to fix your face."

Connor glanced back at the flustered Taylor uncertainly, opening and closing her mouth like a fish, before he decided that he'd better follow the redhead into the next room. The new surroundings weren't any more familiar than the last, though there was a noted absence of dresses. He supposed he should be grateful for that.

"How tall are you? Six foot? Six foot one?" Jen had whirled on him and was giving him another appraising look.

"Six foot." He confirmed, watching her scoop up a tape measure from a nearby table. Instructing him to hold his arms out at his sides, she began taking his measurements.

"How long have you known Taylor?" She asked as she worked, pulling the tape measure around his chest and making a small 'hm' as she noted the number down.

"A couple of days." Connor replied, lowering his arms at her behest and staring straight ahead as she measured his inseam. "How long have you known her?"

"Almost a decade now." She was peering up at him with interest, trying not to smile, though Connor couldn't discern what was amusing about the situation. She penciled the last number down and rolled the tape up as she crossed the room. Connor tracked her with his eyes, his brows furrowed in confusion.

Jen wasn't paying much attention to him now, however. She opened the doors leading into a large closet space that was lined with men's suits. They must have been organized by sizes because she walked down the line, referring to the measurements in her hand, before coming to a stop and sorting through several. She returned with two suits and handed him one. "Try this one."

Connor walked behind the changing curtain she was pointing at, even though he really didn't feel any modesty. He draped the suit over a chair and stared at it, hesitating, glancing between it and his CyberLife issued uniform carefully.

"You freeze over there or what?" Jen's voice brought him back to reality. He must have zoned out trying to decide if he really was going to change. Deciding he didn't have much choice, he slid the CyberLife jacket off and began to put on the suit.

The jacket was black, lined with silk, and slightly textured with a raised pattern. The pants were black as well, and the tie was even thinner than the one he was used to wearing. He adjusted it before stepping back around the curtain, sending one more anxious glance at his folded CyberLife uniform.

"Yes. Perfect." Jen clapped her hands together in approval, grinning at him. "Now come." She steered him back into the ante room where he had waited with Taylor earlier and told him to sit before disappearing again. Connor eased himself into the chair and folded his hands in his lap to wait.

The sun was starting to set by the time he heard the door open again. He could hear voices approaching and turned to see Jen leading the way, though the voice clearly belonged to Taylor. She was batting hands away from her hair that must have belonged to the aforementioned Anton, saying, "Enough. Enough!"

Jen stepped to the side just as Taylor turned to him, and their eyes met across the room. She was wearing a long gown that looked like multicolored scales, iridescent in the light. It was cut into a deep v, and Anton was still trying to place pieces of hair on her head that had been braided along the side of her head and pulled into a bun.

"Girl, if you aren't taking advantage of that then please allow me." Anton was looking him over now. Connor shifted uncomfortably.

"Didn't I just say enough?" Taylor said, somewhere between amused and mortified. Anton just shrugged, batting his eyelashes at her innocently. Connor rose from his seat as she walked toward him, shaking her head and smiling. "I apologize for taking so long, Connor. Thank you for waiting. Nice suit."

"You look beautiful." She froze, still a step away, her mouth dropping open in surprise. Behind her, Anton started laughing, covering his mouth with his hands to stifle it but not being very successful, while Jen started grinning from ear to ear. Connor tilted his head as he watched the familiar shade of scarlet cover Taylor's neck and cheeks, glancing between the three in confusion. "I'm sorry, did I say the wrong thing?"

"No." Still flushing, Taylor closed the gap between them and slid her arm through his. "Thank you, Connor. Now let's go before they tease me anymore." She tugged him toward the door and Connor obediently followed her. They slid onto the elevator that would return them to the first floor just as Jen caught up to them, pressing a silver clutch into Taylor's hand and winking at her while the doors shut.

They rode down in silence. Connor was watching Taylor in his peripherals, the red on her cheeks slowly fading. By the time they stepped onto the street, her color was back to normal. As the cold hit them, Taylor stepped closer to his side, goosebumps rising along her arms.

"You should be wearing a coat. The temperature is dropping rapidly," he said. Taylor glanced up at him and smirked.

"You don't wear coats over Versace. At least that's what Jen would say." She tilted her head toward the car that was waiting for them on the curb. "Let's just hurry."

There was an android waiting by the car, a security model that was both taller and wider than Connor. It opened the door to the backseat for them and stood silently by while they piled in, its LED a solid ring of blue. Taylor frowned when she saw it but didn't comment as Connor slid into the seat beside her.

"Do you know how to dance, Connor?" She asked. Connor looked down, his LED flickering to yellow for a few moments. Then he blinked and raised his head.

"Yes."

"Wait, did you just teach yourself how to dance?" Connor nodded. "That's insane! Also, completely unfair. I had to go to so many dance classes when I was a kid." Taylor paused, her blue eyes settling on his face. "Hey, seriously, thanks for agreeing to come. I really hate going to these things by myself."

Her phone started vibrating in the space between them and she pulled it out of the silver clutch without another word. She started typing away to the person on the other end, leaving Connor to his own thoughts.

The car slid to a stop several minutes later. Connor stepped out of the car first, reaching his hand back inside to help Taylor out as well. When she appeared beside him, the response was overwhelming. Cameras began to flash, people started to shout her name. She smiled into the attention flawlessly, her hand still in his, looking totally unaffected.

"Just stay close to me, okay?" She must have noticed his hesitation at all of the attention. She slid her arm through his and pulled him forward, closer to her side and down the carpet laid out. In her heels, they were nearly the same height.

Taylor's smile never wavered, and she waved at some of the people shouting her name, cordoned off behind ropes and held back by security. Every few feet she would pull him to a stop to pose for cameras, and he noticed the markers after they'd moved on. They approached the stairs, and Connor caught sight of a tall brunette at the foot, looking directly at them.

"Rachel?" Taylor stopped short when she also caught sight of the woman, apparently waiting for them. Rachel smiled excitedly, and Taylor released his arm to pull her into a hug. "I thought you were in New York?"

"I got sent to Detroit a few weeks ago to cover the deviant story." She pulled away, still smiling. "Speaking of which, you should give me an exclusive. I can't believe you went to CTN of all places."

"Don't start. I'm here for charity."

"I didn't mean tonight." Rachel answered diplomatically, turning her blue eyes on Connor. "And this must be your infamous android friend?"

"His name is Connor. Connor, this is my best friend Rachel."

**Rachel Anne Bailey**

**Date of Birth: August 9, 2007 (Age 31)**

**Hair Color: Brown**

**Eye Color: Blue**

**Height: 5' 9"**

**Born in Brooklyn, New York. Charged with two separate counts of breaking and entering. Winner of an Edmund R Murrow award in journalism (2035). Winner of the Pulitzer Prize in journalism (2037). Investigative journalist for—**

"Earth to Connor? I think he's scanning you. He does that." Connor blinked back to reality to find both women staring at him, Taylor in amusement, Rachel with her eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

"Pleased to meet you, Miss Bailey." Connor reached out to shake the hand she was offering. Rachel raised her eyebrows in surprise while Taylor laughed at her reaction. "We should get inside. It's getting colder."

Taylor blinked as Connor offered his arm to her again, but she recovered quickly and slid her arm through his. To Rachel, she said, "Are you coming?"

The brunette woman hesitated, glancing between the two of them before shaking her head. "I'll see you in there later."

They ascended the stairs quickly. The tension in her shoulders relaxed a bit when they finally crossed the threshold into the event space. No more cameras were flashing at least, though the noise level wasn't much lower than outside as the clusters of people moving around them were all talking loudly over each other.

"If we keep this up you just might meet everyone I know by the end of the night." Connor finally focused back to Taylor, who was smiling at him yet again. His sensors were overwhelmed by the amount of people and noise around them, but she seemed to be having no problems blocking it all out. "I think the ballroom is that way."

"Miss Kolbeck!" The blonde turned to locate the person who was calling to her, but Connor had already spotted the older woman approaching from down the long hallway. She was wearing a violet dress, her impossibly curly hair piled atop her head and meticulously pinned into place. When she reached the two of them, slightly breathless, she stuck her hand out to shake Taylor's enthusiastically. "Thank you so much for coming!"

"It's my pleasure." Connor observed Taylor's posture shifting as she turned to face the other woman, detecting the change in her expression even though she was still smiling.

"We were so excited when you confirmed for tonight. Of course, tickets sold out almost immediately after. We should be able to finish construction on our newest shelter with the proceeds from tonight." The woman seemed to realize that she was still pumping Taylor's hand up and down, for she released her suddenly, her cheeks turning a rosy pink.

"I'm glad to hear it, Miss...?"

"James. Elizabeth James. I'm the program director." The woman cleared her throat, looking even more embarrassed, but Taylor politely ignored it.

"It's nice to meet you, Miss James. Maybe you could point us to the ballroom? It's been a while since I was here." She gave Elizabeth another winning smile and followed as she ushered them along. The older woman continued to chatter in her nervousness as she walked.

"The dancing will be starting soon. Of course, there's already food and drinks available. I'm not sure who won your ticket, or I would tell you now—"

"My ticket?" Taylor asked, a note of dread creeping into her voice. "What has Alex agreed to on my behalf, if I may ask?"

"Oh, he didn't tell you?" Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder at them but didn't slow her stride. "You and several other celebrities have auctioned off their first dance of the evening to raise money."

"I see." Taylor clenched her teeth, her jaw tightening, but didn't say anything else. Her blue eyes flickered over the silver clutch on her hand, where her phone was stashed away, as though she might call Alex right then to confront him. She composed herself instead as they entered the giant double doors.

The people scattered out in the hallways were nothing compared to the crowd gathered around the ballroom. Connor stared around at the multitudes of humans that all seemed to be talking at once. The lights from the chandeliers were turned up, bathing the whole room in bright light, bouncing off the fancy gowns and jewelry all around them. His LED was flashing yellow, then red trying to take it all in.

Taylor brushed her fingers against his, drawing his attention back to her. He realized he had frozen just inside the doors and that there were other people trying to enter behind him, stepping around and giving him strange looks. She tilted her head to the side and started for the edge of the crowd, beckoning for him to follow.

They approached a long table lined with food, and Taylor turned to face him. Her face was lined with concern as she stepped closer to be heard over the noise. "Are you okay? It's loud in here."

"I'm fine." Connor nodded, his brown eyes shifting around the room again, wide with wonder. There were at least a few hundred people scattered around the ballroom's floor. The table near them was loaded down with all manners of finger foods and hors d'oeuvres, which many of the guests were picking over as they chatted. There were arrangements of roses all around the room, alternating between a deep turquoise and violet.

When he looked back at Taylor, her blue eyes were glued to his face, lips quirked at the corners in an amused smile. He felt suddenly self-conscious and reached up to adjust his tie. "What is the purpose of all of this?"

"To raise money for charity." She replied. When his expression didn't change, she elaborated, "To help people. People buy tickets for the event. There's food, drinks, dancing, celebrities," she gestured to herself, "sometimes other events, and all of the money goes to a good cause."

"Taylor!" They both turned again as someone called out to the blonde from somewhere across the room. Connor again spotted the approaching human before Taylor, this one a tall blonde male who was cutting through the crowd with efficient speed, his blue eyes fixed on the pair of them. Connor shifted his weight so that he was standing between the two. He needn't have bothered, for when Taylor finally caught sight of them, she ducked around him and practically leapt at the on comer.

"Oh my god! Jake!" The man lifted her off her feet as he hugged her, making her laugh and cling to his neck.

**Jakob Xander Kolbeck**

**Date of Birth: December 17, 2007 (Age 30)**

**Hair Color: Blonde**

**Eye Color: Blue**

**Height: 6' 2"**

**Family: Ayla—**

"Why didn't you call me when you got back to Detroit?" Jake had placed Taylor back on her feet and was frowning down at her. "I can't believe I have to reunite with my own sister at a charity event."

"I was busy." Taylor answered defensively, though she did look quite guilty. "I've been helping the Detroit Police with the deviant cases." She turned back to Connor then as though suddenly remembering he was there and motioned him forward. "This is Connor, he's one of my partners. Connor, this is my brother, Jake."

"Busy pissing off Michael Brinkley, you mean?" Jake raised his eyebrows at her before he stuck his hand out toward Connor. "Nice to meet you, Connor."

Connor returned the handshake, his brown eyes meeting Jake's blue as they shook. His eyes were almost identical in shade to Taylor's, but Connor could tell his LED had flickered to yellow as the taller male gripped his hand harder than necessary. He released him a second later, turning back toward his sister as though nothing had happened.

"God let's not talk about that please. What have you been up to lately?" Taylor was eager to change the subject, but she was glancing between his flickering LED and her brother with interest.

"Oh, you know. Living the non-celebrity life. Or trying to. Sometimes I can even go grocery shopping and not one person recognizes me." He was grinning cheekily at her. Taylor rolled her eyes. "If it makes you feel better, I've also auctioned off my dancing virginity for the night. Though I'm not nearly as expensive as you are, dear sister."

"Well you're not nearly as pretty as me either," Taylor responded with a shrug, though she was giggling now.

"You're right," Jake said solemnly, "I'm twice as pretty as you. This is an outrage!"

"I'm pretty sure it's an auction, therefore the people have spoken." Taylor said, nodding sagely. Whatever Jake was going to say in response was cut off by the sound of silverware tapping on glass, amplified over the speakers around the room.

The small raised platform at the head of the room was acting as a makeshift stage, and Elizabeth James was standing at the microphone lowering her champagne glass and fork. A hush settled over the crowd as the lights dimmed, all conversation lowering to a muted hum as the crowd turned their attention toward the curly-haired woman smiling out at them under the spotlight.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you all for coming tonight. I would like to personally thank CyberLife for allowing us to host this event here free of charge and Rita's for catering. I don't do speeches, so please enjoy yourselves! Before we start the dancing, the C.E.O. of CyberLife is here to say a few words. He has made a very generous donation to ensure that our west branch doesn't close down at the end of the month while our newest shelter will finish construction by the end of the year."

There was a spattering of applause and cheers around the room, but Connor started as he felt Taylor's hands on his arm. Her fingers were clenched into the arm of his jacket and she looked like she was about to pull him toward the door, but her eyes were wide and fixed on the stage in an expression of horror. Every bit of color had drained from her face, and now that he was scanning her, he could detect her stress levels skyrocketing. "Please welcome Anthony Jacobsen!"

The applause grew louder. A man who looked to be in his fifties stepped up onto the platform and into the round halo of light. Behind Taylor's head, Connor could see Jake clenching his jaw as well. He stepped closer to them and placed a hand on Taylor's arm. "Taylor, you should go."

The blonde woman didn't react, her eyes fixated on the man onstage, not blinking. Connor knew if he could feel discomfort that her grip on his arm would have been painful. He was glancing between her and the man known as Anthony Jacobsen in confusion, searching the man's file for some sort of clue but coming up empty.

"Thank you very much! I'm not a man for speeches." Jake was shaking Taylor's shoulder, trying to bring her back to reality, but she was immobile still, dazed. Connor reached over with his other hand and placed his fingers over hers, but she didn't spare him a glance either. He could detect her heartbeat, ticking wildly in her chest, her breathing rapid and shallow. He was concerned she might faint if she didn't snap out of it.

"There will be more opportunity to give tonight, but I want to set the precedence myself. You can only practice what you preach, after all. Therefore, I've pledged $50,000 of my own money to the first ticket of the night for a dance with my daughter-in-law, Miss Taylor Kolbeck."

The crowd erupted into cheers as a second spotlight suddenly illuminated the three of them. Jake had been a split second from bodily lifting his sister and carrying her from the room, but he froze under the sudden attention, dropping his hands away. Anthony stepped down from the platform and walked out onto the dancefloor, the spotlight following him from the stage and people clearing the space to make room.

"Taylor, don't go." Jake leaned in close to speak into her ear, but he still had to shout over the people cheering around them, so Connor heard him as well. Taylor finally glanced around at the crowd, at the phones that were held out, taking pictures, recording. Then she looked back at the dancefloor, where her stepfather was standing with his hand outstretched, waiting.

"I have to." She released Connor's arm and started to walk forward, but Connor stepped forward with her and linked their arms together as she had done to him earlier. He wasn't sure what was happening, exactly, but he knew the blonde was terrified. He wouldn't let her go alone. She met his eyes for just a moment, surprised, but then she tucked her other hand into his elbow and allowed him to lead her forward.

"Taylor!" Jake hissed from behind them, standing on the balls of his feet like he still wanted to leap forward and drag her away. Taylor ignored him, stepping out onto the dancefloor with her head held high.

They approached Anthony at what felt like a slow pace, but the distance was almost nothing. He was smiling at the two of them, his hand still outstretched. Connor gave Taylor's fingers one last squeeze as he handed her off and stepped away. She glanced back at him as the music started, trying to smile, her face a grimace of panic.

Connor knew his LED was a solid ring of red as he stood at the edge of the dance floor, scanning the room. He should not have led his partner out there, though he couldn't figure out why. She had gone voluntarily, but he could still detect her heart like a hummingbird in her chest, her hands shaking slightly as she stepped in time with the melody.

He knew from his scans that there was three minutes and forty-nine seconds left in the song. The people around the dancefloor were all holding their phones up in the direction of the dancing couple, smiling, seemingly oblivious to the blonde woman's terror as she smiled. He could see Anthony Jacobsen's lips moving as they twirled and knew he was saying something but couldn't catch enough to know what it was.

He glanced up at the ceiling, to the music coming out of the speakers. Scanning further, he could see that the wiring suggested the system was running on a wireless network. Reviewing the list of networks, he found that one that was most likely controlling the sound system and hacked into it. It took less than five seconds.

The music shifted suddenly into the next song. The people in the crowd were looking around in confusion as Taylor jerked away from her stepfather. Connor was next to her a second later, pulling her hand away. Anthony was gaping, his mouth open in shock, but Connor just nodded to him and said politely, "It would seem the song is over."

Indeed, people were filtering onto the dancefloor now and coupling for dances. Connor pulled Taylor closer and spun her away. He stuttered for a step or two, trying to translate the dance instructions he had downloaded into movement, before he was leading the blonde flawlessly across the floor.

"Are you okay?" Connor tilted his head to try and see her face. She had tucked her head against his shoulder, face pressed into his jacket. His arm was circled around her back so that he could feel her still trembling, but she followed his steps perfectly as they danced. Her smaller frame fit perfectly against him and he could feel the rapid rising and falling of her chest with every breath.

"You stopped the music somehow, didn't you?" He was beginning to detect a pattern of her asking questions to avoid answering them. Still, he could sense her stress levels slowly dropping, the taut muscles in her shoulders slowly easing.

"I hacked into the wireless network." He confirmed. A breath of a laugh escaped her, and she turned her head slightly so that her face was no longer hidden by the fabric of his suit.

"Thank you, Connor." The song faded out, but Taylor didn't move to pull away, so Connor led her seamlessly into the next song. They danced through it in silence, Taylor slowly easing back into herself. Still, every few moments her eyes would dart about the room as though she expected Anthony to appear and snatch her away again. Each time, he tightened his fingers around hers, bringing her eyes back to him.

When the blonde finally stepped away, she managed a smile that actually reached her eyes. "You really did teach yourself how to dance in like, three seconds."

"Obviously." He smirked. Taylor laughed and pulled him away from the dancefloor, back towards the table where they had been standing before. She lifted a glass of champagne off the tray of a passing waiter and brought it to her lips as she glanced around the room again.

Connor scanned the ballroom but didn't see any sign of Anthony Jacobsen, though he did find Jakob dancing with a very red, stuttering young woman. Taylor must have spotted him too, because she was grinning into her champagne as her eyes followed the pair. It wasn't long before people started to approach her, however, asking for pictures and asking questions.

He stood just behind her as they came through, and the blonde smiled flawlessly in every picture, accepted new glasses of champagne and laughed at jokes. Jake rejoined them, causing even more of a stir.

At least an hour passed before they got a break, and Taylor turned back to him, still smiling. Connor noticed that her eyes had become slightly glazed; the glass in her hand was the seventh and it only had a sip of champagne left swirling around the bottom. She hadn't touched any food since they'd arrived.

"You should eat something." He said, gently taking the glass from her fingers. She frowned at him and reached to take it back, leaning into him. He held it out of her reach. "You're going to get sick."

"You can't tell me what to do." She said petulantly, abandoning the glass he'd taken and looking around for a waiter instead.

"He's right, Taylor." Jake intercepted the blonde as she made a beeline for the cluster of waitstaff standing several feet away. "Alex really will fly here and murder you if you cause a 'drunk celebrity at a charity event' scandal."

"Both of you suck." Taylor glared and tried to duck under his arm, but Jake was not intoxicated, and he easily caught her and pulled her back.

"Don't act like you don't love to eat. Look, they have mini quiches. And cheese." When Taylor turned, Connor presented her with a small plate that he had loaded with food. She blinked at it for a moment, but he pushed it into her hands without giving her a choice on taking it. Now that she was holding the food, she was just as content eating as she had been drinking champagne. "Maybe you should go home, sis. You've put in enough time, right?"

"We have to work tomorrow," Connor added reasonably. Taylor paused, a cube of cheese halfway between the plate and her mouth, narrowing her eyes at the brunette android.

"You're on his side now?" She asked as she pointed her cheese at him. Jake sighed and took the plate from her.

"Go home, Taylor." He frowned as he sat the plate down on the table. "Where are you staying, anyway?"

"At the house, obviously." She stepped away as Jake paled, linking her arm with Connor's again. "Come on, Connor, let's go."

"Hey, Taylor—!" Connor found himself stumbling slightly as Taylor pulled him toward the door, but he quickly matched her pace. The hallways were nearly empty as they made for the exit. Taylor was tapping away in an app on her phone, ordering a taxi to pick them up.


	12. Dark Side

**Bishop Briggs – Dark Side**

Taylor closed her eyes as she pressed closer to Connor's side, trying to absorb his warmth. The reasonable part of her brain knew that she should be sitting on her side of the taxi with a respectable distance between her and said android, but she had drowned that part in six glasses of champagne a while ago. The air had been frigid as they stood waiting for the car to arrive, and even though the inside was already heated when they got in, she was still cold.

The car turned and she leaned away from Connor with the momentum before sliding back, her head resting against his shoulder. She was weightless, floating, adrift in her tipsiness. She knew her head was going to hurt in the morning, but it was only a fleeting concern for now.

"Hey, Connor?" She heard him make a noise of acknowledgment, but her mind was elsewhere. She was thinking of why she had dragged the android all over town with her, knowing he wouldn't complain. She was wondering why he seemed like he cared when he was only programmed to hunt deviants and investigate crimes. At times he acted like he had emotions, like he was a deviant, but she knew that he wasn't.

She opened her eyes and glanced up, only to find he was still staring at her, his head tilted, waiting for whatever question she had been about to ask. She didn't remember what she was about to say anymore.

Why did he come with her to this stupid party? Why did he step in and save her from her stepfather? Why did he say that she shouldn't be on the crime scene and then defend her in front of Hank?

"May I ask you a personal question, Taylor?" The silence must have stretched on longer than she realized. Connor had given up on her saying anything else and decided to ask a question of his own.

"Nothing has stopped you before," she responded, grinning at him. Though the last time he had asked her personal questions, she had practically yelled at him. Her smile faded.

"Why were you afraid?" Her heart skipped a beat. The hazy, pleasant feeling that had coated her from the champagne started to dissipate and she swallowed over the sudden nausea.

"Why did you help me?" She asked, hoping to distract him instead. She watched him through her lashes, his LED flickering to yellow as he considered the question.

"We are partners. You are important to the case." He glanced down at his hands, which were folded in his lap. "I failed to protect you before." He looked back at her, and asked again, "Why were you afraid?"

Taylor stared at her lap, tracing her fingers over the glittering scales of her dress. They were catching the light of the streetlamps that they drove under, throwing off prisms of sparkles in the cab of the taxi. "I've always been afraid of him."

Connor was still watching her, his head slightly tilted, brown eyes searching her face, expectant. He wanted her to say more, he was waiting for an explanation, but she couldn't say it. She was remembering the first time she had met Anthony Jacobsen, when her mother had brought him home and told her and Jake that he was going to be their new father.

"Taylor?" Connor's fingers brushed against her arm and she flinched, pulling away. She looked up, and then glanced around, realizing that the taxi had stopped. They had arrived.

"I'm sorry." His hand was still hovering in the space between them, his LED yellow, as she reached for the handle to the door. "I'll see you in the morning."

Connor was opening his mouth to respond when she closed the door and rushed down the driveway.

* * *

"Taylor, what the fuck?" The blonde groaned, rubbing a hand across her throbbing forehead. She'd already taken Tylenol and ibuprofen and was considering if aspirin would send her into multi-organ failure when Alex had called. Instead she'd ordered a cappuccino and two muffins to-go from a café near the precinct and was waiting at the counter for them.

"What have I done to offend you now?" She stepped forward as the barista called her order number and headed for the door with breakfast in hand. She had pulled her hair back into a ponytail for the day, unable to tame it after falling asleep onto the updo that Anton had fixed the day before, and had refused to take off her dark sunglasses since she'd walked outside to the sunshine stabbing directly into her brain.

"Do you really need to ask? The pictures are all over the internet." Maybe if it didn't feel like her brain was trying to squeeze out of her skull from the inside, the answer would have been obvious. Right now, she wasn't in the mood for Alex's usual tête-à-tête. He must have been pretty pissed at her, too, because he didn't even draw it out like he normally would. "Why did you dance with Anthony Jacobsen last night?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" She tried to fight down the panic rising in her throat and hoped that if she played it off, Alex would let it go. Or it might have just been stomach bile; she had been nauseous all morning. She was hoping the muffins would help to absorb the toxic bile and alcohol cocktail sloshing around inside of her.

"I don't even know what to say to that." Taylor sipped the coffee in her hand as she rounded the corner and finally caught sight of the station just ahead. "You know, I knew it was a mistake, sending you out there by yourself."

"What does that mean?" Her voice raised an octave, then she winced as her head pounded in protest. "Alex, I'm not a kid anymore."

"Really? So you weren't also threatened by a deviant at a crime scene?" Taylor froze, rather inconveniently as she was walking into the building. The person walking behind her cleared their throat loudly after almost colliding with her and she sheepishly stepped to the side to let them pass.

"Who told you that?" She asked softly, retreating to the corner of the lobby and trying to avoid notice.

"Then it is true?" She could hear him taking in a deep breath on his end of the line. "Dr. Williams said you won't return her calls either. Jesus, Taylor. I really am going to have to fly out there."

"Would you stop it with that?" Taylor snapped, turning her back on the lobby to face the window so no one could see her talking and try to eavesdrop. "I'm tired of the threat, Alex. You know, I saw Jake last night and even he was throwing it in my face. You haven't let me out of your sight since I was thirteen! You aren't my dad!"

The whole world tilted. Her heart squeezed painfully in her chest and wouldn't let go. She held her breath, wishing she could take it back. The silence on the line was deafening, consuming, she couldn't even hear the people in the lobby behind her as she waited for him to respond.

"I'm just worried about you, Taylor." His voice was quiet. She wished he had screamed back at her, said something just as hurtful. "I may have an infant daughter and a wife now, but you are my family. You know where to find me."

The line went dead. Taylor thought she could be shattering, breaking apart from the inside. She stood there for who knows how long, trembling, imploding, clutching her breakfast and staring out into the Detroit street.

The phone rang, breaking her stupor. She answered immediately, praying it was Alex and she could fix it. Apologize. "Hello?"

"Miss Kolbeck?" There was a hesitation on the line. It wasn't Alex. She recognized the voice immediately. "Taylor. Good Morning. I was calling to see when you would be into the precinct this morning. I went to retrieve my uniform, but they said they had delivered it to you."

"Connor, how did you get this number?" Taylor couldn't juggle the items in her hands to pull out her phone and see what number he was calling from. One of those items was, in fact, Connor's clean uniform, enclosed in a garment bag.

"Lieutenant Anderson gave me the number of your agent, Alex. He gave me your number after I assured him it was a matter of utmost importance." The android said matter-of-factly. She let that sink in for a moment before she started giggling uncontrollably. Her stress came bubbling up at the absurdity of it, and she couldn't reel herself in for a few solid minutes. She could hear Connor calling her name on the other end of the line, concerned.

"Yes, Connor, I have your uniform." She finally managed, collecting herself. "I'm in the lobby, I'll be in shortly." Reaching up with the hand holding the garment bag, she double tapped her earpiece and turned away from the window, heading deeper into the precinct.

She found Connor at the desk. He was seated in his usual seat, and if it was possible for an android to fidget then that's what he was doing. He was still wearing the suit from the party the night before, and she suddenly felt guilty for the second time that morning knowing he must have been anxious waiting on her to return his CyberLife uniform.

When he spotted her weaving through the desks, he leapt to his feet and met her halfway. She extended the garment bag in the space between them like a peace offering. "I'm sorry, Connor. I should have returned this sooner."

He accepted it, his LED a solid yellow ring. But his brown eyes were watching her face, scanning. "It's fine. I'm going to change."

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but he stepped around her and walked off without another word. Taylor headed to the desk and took her own chair, setting down her cappuccino and the bag of muffins before taking a seat. A few of the cops greeted her as they passed, and she waved back distractedly.

She sat her two muffins out just as Connor returned, clad in his familiar grey coat with its blue armband. He resumed his seat next to her as she busied herself with pulling the tops off both and putting the bottoms to the sides. She took the first muffin and started breaking off smaller bites, popping them in her mouth.

"You look tired. Are you getting enough sleep?" Taylor paused midchew, turning her chair to face Connor. He was leaned into the desk so that he could scan her face again, probably reading her vitals, or perhaps just noticing the bags under her eyes. She swallowed.

"I'm hungover." She said grumpily, stuffing more muffin in her mouth defiantly, as if that was the answer. The queasiness was abating, but the hollow feeling in her stomach since Alex had hung up on her still hadn't gone away. She would call him later tonight, after all of this settled, and apologize.

"Not getting enough sleep can compromise your immune system." Connor pressed, ignoring her explanation entirely. She sighed but didn't bother arguing with him. He could probably look at her face and read exactly how many hours she had slept the night before based on her pores or something.

"I'll keep that in mind." She yawned, her body betraying her, and took a long sip of her cappuccino afterward. "Any new cases?"

"Not yet. The Lieutenant has also not arrived yet this morning." She nodded, yawning again as she moved to her second muffin.

"Do we know anything else about the deviant from yesterday?"

"Model WB200, agricultural worker for the Urban Farms. There is a report of a missing android dating back to October 11, 2036. Possibly a match for our deviant android, but it is impossible to say for sure since it got away." Connor's LED flickered to yellow as he relayed the information.

"You think he was living there for two years?" Taylor asked softly, her fingers pausing midway between her lips and the desk, a few errant crumbs tumbling into her lap. "He worked at the farms. Maybe he liked the birds before he became deviant. He must have seen so many on the rooftops. Maybe he just wanted to take care of them."

Suddenly remembering the bite of her breakfast, she popped it in her mouth and chewed halfheartedly. She placed both hands around the coffee cup and let the liquid warm her fingers, thinking.

"How have you met so many deviants before?" Connor asked, drawing her attention back to him. His brown eyes were fixed on her face, that rogue lock of brown hair curled over his forehead, his head tilted slightly to the side. She swallowed nervously.

"I don't know what you mean." Taylor glanced around, looking for a diversion, some way to change the subject. She knew he could detect any lies and he was too persistent to give a non-answer for long. Her tired, hungover brain was drawing a blank, however.

"CyberLife recruited you for this mission as a deviant expert. You have admitted to interacting with many deviants in the past. I am simply curious as to the context of these meetings." He elaborated for her, sitting forward to wait for her response. "Since you prevented me from running internet searches on you."

"You actually stuck to that?" Taylor laughed despite herself and the sudden urgency of the situation. Connor blinked.

"I considered it an order." Her laughter faded instantly. She looked at the android sitting across from her, their knees almost touching, his face full of eager curiosity.

"I would never give you an order, Connor." She said quietly. His LED flickered yellow as he processed this, but before he could respond, she decided to answer his question honestly. "I met a lot of deviants in California because I helped them. They came to me for help."

"Help with what?" Connor tilted his head again, his LED flashing red for a moment, then back to yellow. She hesitated, remembering the first day they met, how upset he'd become when she explained why she was here, her thoughts on deviants.

"Some of them were injured. All of them are scared. I help them any way I can. And some of them tell me their stories." Taylor leaned away slightly, her back conforming to the cushion of the chair. Connor still leaned into her, his eyes fixed onto hers, his LED spiraling a solid yellow as he processed, occasionally flickering to red. She knew he wouldn't do anything to hurt her, but the intense expression on his face made her nervous.

"You've helped deviants to escape?" His voice was low. She couldn't look away, could scarcely even blink. She wondered if this is how that android had felt when Connor had interrogated him. But she wasn't going to back down, not over this, not now.

"Yes." Connor's fingers tightened around his knees, his LED turning a solid red at her response, but he didn't move. He sat very still, processing everything she'd said, the silence stretching on and on. Taylor found herself leaning forward, reaching her hand out across the gap between them, her heart pounding in her ears. She had already tried to ruin one relationship this morning. She didn't want Connor to hate her too.

Her fingers brushed over his hand, catching his fingers in her own and squeezing. He finally broke his trance, glancing down at their hands and back to her face, his brow furrowed. "What the fuck is going on over here?"

Taylor jumped back as Hank's voice cut through the moment. Connor also sat up, LED flickering back to its usual blue, assuming his usual straight-backed posture. "Good morning, Lieutenant. I was asking Taylor about her history with deviants."

"Uh huh. That's exactly what it looked like." The lieutenant rolled his eyes as he fell into his chair. "What's with the suit?"

Taylor turned and realized Connor had hung the suit on the wall that separated the desks, neatly tucked into the garment bag. She hadn't even noticed. "That's the suit Connor wore last night. He came with me to a charity event."

"You took the plastic prick to a party?" Hank raised an eyebrow at her, then shook his head. "With you, that isn't even worth a response, honestly."

"Best thing I've heard all morning," Taylor smiled back. She glanced back toward Connor, a bit apprehensive, only to find he was not looking at either of them. His LED was yellow once again, and when it turned blue, he looked toward Hank.

"I have a report of an active deviant in the area."

"Christ, do you just wait for me to get here before you find this shit?" Hank groaned but stood from his chair and grabbed the coat that he had discarded on the desk. "Let's go, then."


	13. Flicker

**Lorde - Flicker**

Taylor trailed Connor and Hank into the small house, glancing around at the multitude of police officers that were standing around. Some of them she vaguely recognized from the station, others she hadn't met, but mostly she was wondering why there were so many on scene. There was a middle-aged woman standing in the living room on the right, wringing her hands nervously as she spoke to a pair of officers, frowning.

"Call came in about an hour ago," Chris stepped forward, and she gave him a small wave. In the kitchen she spotted a young boy who looked to be on the edge of puberty, possibly twelve or thirteen. He was also speaking to a police officer and had noticeable bruises along his arms and neck.

"What happened?" Hank asked, surveying the scene as well.

"The mother called the police, said the family android had gone crazy and attacked her son. It was choking him when she came into the room, so she grabbed the lamp off the table and hit the android until it let go." Chris explained.

Taylor glanced over at the boy again and found that his dark eyes were fixed on her as well. He smiled at her, and she got the sudden feeling of a cold finger sliding down her spine. She shifted to Hank's other side and turned her attention back to Chris.

"Where's the android?" Hank said next, also looking over at the kid in the kitchen. If he noticed her sudden discomfort, he didn't comment on it.

"It hid in the closet in the kid's room. Still there." Chris shrugged, looking over his shoulder toward the narrow hallway that must have led toward the bedrooms.

"Alright, we'll take it from here, Chris." The two nodded to each other before Chris moved away, resuming his post while Hank moved deeper into the house. When he noticed Connor and Taylor following him, however, he snapped, "What is this, follow the leader? Find something to do! Christ."

"Do you have any theories about the deviant, Taylor?" Connor followed the Lieutenant with his eyes as he walked away, looking like a kicked puppy. Taylor tried not to smile as he turned to look at her instead, awaiting her response.

"Hard to say without knowing the circumstances. The deviant is still here, and so is the kid." She turned her head to look back toward the kitchen, where the boy had been a moment before, but he had disappeared. She blinked.

"We should question them." Connor agreed, nodding.

"You're Taylor Kolbeck." The blonde jumped as the voice came from behind her. She turned the other way, finding the boy standing on her other side. He was still smiling up at her, standing just a couple of inches away. She took an automatic step back, bumping into Connor, who placed his hand on her back to steady her.

"Y-Yes. I am." She should have stepped away from Connor, but she didn't. She was staring into the boy's eyes, transfixed, and the presence of the android beside her was comforting. He didn't lower his hand either; perhaps he could detect her stress levels rising. She attempted a smile. "What's your name?"

"Andrew." His eyes were brown, but nothing like Connor's. They were dark enough to almost blend into his pupils, like twin pieces of coal that shifted between her and the android, still smiling. A perfectly normal adolescent boy. Why was her heart pounding in her ears?

"Can you tell us what happened with the android, Andrew?" Connor's voice came from somewhere just over her head. She really was standing too close. She shifted her body slightly away, Andrew's eyes following the movement.

"Sure. I was in my room playing with Tyler. Our android. Cops and robbers." He paused, almost as if for dramatic effect, glancing between the two of them with his eyebrows raised. When they didn't react, he continued, "We play all the time, but Tyler got real mad. He grabbed me and started to shake me. Then he started to choke me. I tried to pull him off, but he was too strong. I thought I was gonna die, but my mom came in and Tyler let me go and ran in the closet."

"Thank you, Andrew." Taylor glanced up at Connor, but his eyes were fixed on the boy, his LED swirling yellow. "Why don't you go back to the kitchen, we'll come get you if we have questions."

Andrew appeared put out for a moment at their reaction, but he reached in his pocket and pulled out his phone, smiling up at her again. "Can I have a picture?"

"Oh, um," she swallowed nervously again, glancing at the phone before saying, "Maybe later, okay? I'm working right now."

He frowned as he shoved the device back in his pocket and stalked back toward the kitchen. Taylor released a breath and finally took a full step away from Connor. Connor blinked a few times, his LED fading back to blue. "What's wrong?"

She glanced over at Andrew, still watching the two of them from his spot beside the refrigerator. She spoke softly as she asked, "Did anything seem off to you about that kid?"

"Off?" Connor repeated, his LED flashing yellow again.

"Never mind." Taylor shook her head. She was being paranoid. The kid was probably in shock from nearly being choked to death by his android.

"Why do you think the deviant attacked him?" Connor asked, tilting his head slightly, his eyes still fixed on her face.

"I don't know." She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, and then glanced around the house. Hank was standing in the living room, talking to the mother. "Do you want to look around a bit or should we go see the deviant?"

Connor also looked over at the lieutenant, considering. "There is not likely to be much physical evidence anywhere but the child's room. We will go there." Taylor nodded and made to walk forward, but Connor held his arm out. "Stay behind me."

"Fine," she sighed, waiting for him to head down the hallway before following. There was an officer standing at the end, outside of a doorway and looking quite bored. She recognized him as Ben, he had been present on her first scene. He nodded at them as they passed into the room.

Another officer was inside the room, guarding the closet. The lamp Chris had told them about was laying on the floor, on its side, somehow still intact. The thirium was still fresh enough that even Taylor could make out the blue smear along the side. Oppressive silence blanketed the room, not even a shuffle from the closet. Apart from the lamp, there were only a few discarded toys and the usual mess you would expect from an adolescent boy's room.

Connor knelt by the lamp, sticking his fingers in the blue blood and bringing them to his lips. Taylor was suddenly grateful that Hank was still preoccupied with the mother back in the living room. She could hear his indignant shouting in her head. "AP700 model, recently purchased."

He rattled off the serial number, but she tuned him out. A domestic android, and brand new from CyberLife. Deviant. "Do you see anything else, Connor?"

Connor stood, glancing around the room, his LED still flickering yellow. His voice was still soft when he said, "There are other traces of thirium in the room."

"Wait, what?" Taylor looked at the blue blood on the lamp and the few drops on the hardwood floor between it and the closet door. "Even I can still see this blood."

"There are older stains in other places throughout the room." Connor was glancing along the floor as if following the trail of blood with his eyes, his LED flickering. Yellow. Red. Yellow. Taylor's stomach did an odd flip, the queasiness of the morning coming back full force.

"Let's… let's get the deviant out of the closet." She said. Connor met gazes with her again and nodded, his LED finally fading back to blue. The officer guarding the door had been watching their progress uneasily, but he stepped out of the way as Connor approached. Taylor hung back enough so that Connor wouldn't scold her again, waiting with bated breath as he reached for the doorknob.

The door swung outward. Nothing happened. Connor moved forward slowly, glancing around in the small closet, finally spotting the solid ring of red peeking out from the corner between the hanging coats.

The AP700, Tyler, was huddled into a ball in the far corner of the small space, cowering. Taylor stepped closer, her breath hitching as she caught full view of the deviant android. The left side of his face was splattered with thirium, his dark black hair plastered against his forehead.

"Step out of the closet." Connor said to the android. Taylor glanced at him, then back at the cowering deviant, before stepping forward herself.

"We aren't going to hurt you." She said softly, squatting down so that she wasn't towering over him anymore. "I want to help. We just want to know what happened."

The deviant moved forward suddenly, and Connor grabbed her arm, hauling her backwards. The officer still standing to the side pulled his gun and trained it on the android, who froze in the doorway of the closet. The room went still for a heartbeat. Taylor was staring at the AP700 in abject horror, but not because she thought he had tried to attack her.

Tyler had marks along every visible part of his body. Alternating burns and cuts, exposed wires showing in his left arm. He glanced over at the gun but didn't react with fear, instead turned back to look at Taylor, jaw quivering. "You can h-help."

"What happened to you?" Taylor could hear the emotion in her own voice and tried to swallow over the lump building in her throat. His left eye was twitching slightly from damage caused by the lamp. She doubted if he could still see out of it.

"Please." The deviant begged, his hand clenched on the doorframe as he swayed. The room was tense. Connor moved to step forward, but Taylor reached out and held him back, shaking her head slightly.

"Tell me what happened." She said again, eyeing the blue blood on his arms, the pieces falling into place even as she asked. The blood was too new. She was thinking back to Carlos Ortiz and his android. But Ortiz had been high on red ice.

"He tortured me." The android said, his eyes wide. "He said I would last longer than the others. I was a newer model. He asked what would happen if he set me on fire. I was afraid."

"Cuff it." Taylor jumped as Hank's voice cut through the quiet that had settled over the room. She wasn't sure when he had arrived in the doorway, but it must have been long enough. The officer in the room lowered his weapon and stepped forward, pulling out his handcuffs.

"He was defending himself," Taylor said quietly. Hank froze for a moment, then turned to glare at her.

"It's a machine." He growled. Taylor glared back, tears squeezing from the corners of her eyes. She hated herself for crying, but it had been a shitty day and the deviant didn't even resist as the officer tightened the cuffs around his wrists, face still a mask of abject terror.

"He's a victim." She retaliated. They stared each other down, no one in the room moving for a few moments, before Hank turned toward the officer still holding the deviant.

"What the fuck are you waiting for? Take it in." They moved toward the door, but Taylor moved first, pushing past them and stomping out of the room without looking back.


	14. Ghost

**Halsey - Ghost**

Connor moved through the near-silent halls of the Detroit Police Station with no destination in mind. Normally at this point in the evening he would have put himself into sleep mode, but tonight he was restless. Because he was restless, he kept running diagnostics, making sure he had not developed any errors in his programming.

Taylor had not shown up since she had left the crime scene earlier. Logically, she had gone home. He didn't know why his mind kept coming back to the blonde, wondering where she was, or why she had been so upset after they had caught the deviant. They had completed the mission.

He was still working to reconcile what she had told him this morning, about helping deviants to escape. That didn't reflect on the case. She'd sworn that she wouldn't do anything to jeopardize their progress. Yet she'd been so distressed over arresting the AP700.

Connor paused, tilting his head as he heard a noise. Shuffling, echoing from down the hallway to his left. There were still several police officers in the building, some working late to finish reports and paperwork, others stuck on the overnight.

Turning on his heel, he strode down the hallway toward the origin of the sound, ears perked for another clamor in the quiet. The lights were dim in the hallway as he moved down it, his internal clock informing him that it was 10:27 pm.

He heard another faint rustling just ahead, too soft to hear if not for his android senses. He continued towards a door on the left. Referencing the blueprints in his head, he knew it led to one of the overnight sleep rooms for the cops, but at last count they had all been present upstairs. He reached for the knob and pushed the door open without hesitating.

Taylor was curled up on the cot in the corner, her back leaning into the wall and the thin blanket pulled around her lap. Her phone was open in her hands, her thumbs scrolling across the screen at their usual mind-numbing speed. Blonde curls were falling into her eyes as she glanced up, hearing him enter, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Connor?"

"Taylor?" He responded, his voice tinged with equal surprise. He was uncertain how to react now that the source of his unease was now before him. "Shouldn't you be at home?"

He thought he saw a grimace pass over her face, but it disappeared just as quickly. The phone in her hand buzzed and she went back typing, her hair falling into her eyes once more. The ends were slightly damp, like she'd just showered.

A moment of silence passed before she looked up at him again, a smile quirking the corners of her mouth. "You don't have to stand there in the doorway. You can come in."

Connor stepped through the threshold, standing a few feet away, glancing around uncertainly. Taylor's smile widened and she patted the spot on the cot next to her. He hesitated before lowering himself down awkwardly, trying to mimic her posture as best he could. She was giggling by the time he managed to cross his legs.

Her phone buzzed again, and she started typing, turning her attention away once more. He studied her face. The glowing light from the phone screen made the exhaustion around her eyes more apparent than that morning, the dark circles prominent. She finished whatever message she had been sending and tossed the phone onto the cot, leaning her head back against the wall.

"You look tired." He said carefully, remembering her response this morning when he had tried to point out her lack of sleep. She gave him a skeptical look and rolled her eyes.

"In my experience, that's just a polite way of saying 'you look like shit'." She must have read something in the expression he gave, because she nudged his shoulder with hers and gave him a small smile. "I'm just kidding."

They sat there quietly, Taylor's phone buzzing in the space between them. Her blue eyes were fixed on the screen as it flashed. Her hands were resting in her lap, her fingers curling into fists and then relaxing, over and over again.

"Alex hates texting." She spoke so softly, even he had trouble hearing her at first. He was watching her hands clench and unclench, mesmerized by it. He glanced up at her face, tilting his head, but she wasn't looking at him. The phone had gone silent, nestled on the blanket, but she was still staring at it, through it.

"Taylor, why are you here?" She was dressed in an oversized sweatshirt and sweatpants, looking like she planned to spend the night on an uncomfortably thin police cot at the Detroit Police Station. Evidence suggested she'd even showered there. She didn't answer him, just closed her eyes and leaned her head back into the wall again.

He thought she wouldn't answer at all. He knew she wasn't sleeping, her hands were still working in her lap, clenching and unclenching, but finally she spoke, "I can't sleep in that house."

There was a tremor at the end of her sentence, and she squeezed her eyes shut, her hands tightening into fists and staying. "I stayed in the guest room, on the bottom floor, as far away from my old room as possible. I wanted to be brave. But I'm not." She took a deep breath, in through her nose, and sighed, "I came here because it felt safe."

Connor reached his hand over and placed his fingers gently around Taylor's fist. He knew from his programming that humans used touch to comfort each other. She tensed at the contact. He almost pulled away, but she relaxed her hand a second later and curled her fingers around his.

"I guess you don't hate me at least?" Taylor opened her eyes and tilted her head toward him, her lips curling into a half smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Connor blinked at her in confusion, and she elaborated, "This morning, when I told you I helped deviants. You were upset."

Connor thought back to that morning. She had told him she helped deviants escape. He was programmed to be a deviant hunter. He stared into her face now, trying to reconcile the two things in his head. He was not programmed to want things, but Taylor was staring up at him, her eyes full of hope, and he didn't want to hurt her.

"No, I don't hate you." She smiled, a real smile this time, and suddenly placed her arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. Connor knew his LED was flickering between yellow and red. He could feel Taylor's skin against him, smell the flowery scent of her shampoo in his nose. Before he could react, she pulled away, still smiling.

"Thank you, Connor."

"You should sleep." Connor was still trying to collect himself, to analyze his reaction to the hug as Taylor nodded. She shifted toward the pillow while Connor stood and moved away.

"Hey, Connor?" The android turned, his LED still a solid yellow, processing. Taylor had burrowed under the blanket and she was peering up at him, looking sheepish. "Can you stay for a little while?"

"Yes." Connor walked back and took a seat on the cot parallel to Taylor's. She smiled at him again and muttered a thank you before closing her eyes. The lack of sleep caught up with her quickly; her breathing slowed, and he could tell she was sleeping. He watched her for a while, sleeping peacefully, before going into sleep mode himself.

* * *

Connor sat at the desk he shared with Taylor looking through the deviant files and reports he'd requested from other major cities around the United States. Detroit had the highest incidence of deviant activity by far, but other major metropolitan areas had seen a rise in cases as well. He was running comparisons, trying to find similarities and common denominators.

Taylor had left over an hour ago for her 'morning run,' claiming that Hank was never on time anyway. Connor had conceded the point. When he glanced up, however, he spotted the lieutenant sinking into his desk chair, on time.

"Good morning, Lieutenant." Hank grunted in response, then glanced around when he noticed the blonde was missing.

"Where's the third fucking musketeer?" He grumbled, sipping the coffee in his hand.

"She went for a run. We expected you later in the morning." Connor explained.

"Huh." Hank raised his eyebrows and sipped his coffee again. "Sounds awful."

They lapsed into silence. Hank shuffled the papers around on his desk, looking like he wanted to do anything but work on his reports. Connor decided to indulge him, "Lieutenant, you met Taylor when she was a child, correct?"

Hank glared at him over the desks that separated them. "What do you care?"

"The two of you do not seem to get along." Connor observed, tilting his head as he looked at the lieutenant, completely unfazed by his glare.

"I think we get along just fine." He responded noncommittally. "Also, just because I've known her since she was a kid doesn't mean we're friends."

"She was famous when you met her then, wasn't she?" Connor pressed. Hank sighed, realizing the android wasn't going to drop it.

"Yeah, she was on some kid show that I'd never watched in my life. Her mom was famous for music that I never listened to. Didn't mean much to me." He shrugged.

"Taylor said that she had met you twice before, once when her mother died, and one other time." Hank suddenly looked uncomfortable, but Connor went on, "What other time?"

"That's none of your god damn business." Hank glared at him again over the desk. "Is it part of your programming to be so fucking nosy all of the time?"

"You guys look like you're having fun without me." Taylor smiled as she took her seat next to Connor. His LED was still flickering yellow as he processed Hank's response, or lack thereof, to his questions. She'd pinned her hair back in a bun and had a coffee in her hand from the same café as the previous morning.

"Look who's the late one today." Hank said with amusement from his side of the desk. Taylor rolled her eyes.

"Not effective coming from the chronically late one, you know." She glanced over at Connor, arching an eyebrow. "Were you guys having some kind of man-to-man? Should I go?"

"The plastic asshole here was just prying into your personal life." Hank informed her without hesitation, making the blonde raise her eyebrows in surprise. She turned those blue eyes on him, and he could feel the thirium rushing to his cheeks. Her lips quirked upward in that familiar smirk of amusement at his reaction.

"That doesn't sound like him at all." Connor blinked a few times before he processed that she was joking, but by then she had started laughing at his expense. "Any news on the case?"

"There are no new reports yet this morning." Connor informed them, his cheeks returning to their normal color, LED fading back to blue.


	15. The Sharpest Lives

**My Chemical Romance – The Sharpest Lives**

Taylor stood under the muted lights of the Eden Club's private room, hovering near Chris as he took pictures of the crime scene. Detective Gavin Reed was standing some distance away, looking bored when he should have been surveying the scene as well. She avoided looking at the corpse on the bed for what felt like the hundredth time, and instead focused on the destroyed android on the floor.

"Squeamish?" She glanced back up to find that Gavin had decided to satisfy his boredom by talking to her.

"Not really." She shrugged, tugging the lapels of her coat closer around her. Truthfully, the whole environment of an android sex club was what was getting under her skin more than the death in the room, but she wasn't about to share that with Detective Reed.

"You sure you should be on a crime scene?" He asked, raising a single eyebrow at her. She bristled, clenching her teeth.

"Are you sure you should be? You don't seem like you're doing much." Chris snorted from somewhere behind her while Gavin's face contorted with rage. Just as he opened his mouth to respond, Hank walked into the room, Connor on his heels.

"Oh great, a dead body and an asshole, just what we needed," he was saying over his shoulder as he walked in, making Taylor hide her own smile behind her hand.

"Lieutenant Anderson and his plastic pet," Gavin sneered, turning his attention away from her. "Celebrity Barbie showed up ages ago, might as well promote her to real cop." Taylor felt the heat crawling up her neck but bit her tongue. "What the fuck are you three doing here anyway?"

"We've been assigned to all cases involving androids." Connor responded neutrally.

"Oh yeah? Well, you're wasting your time. Just some pervert who, uh, got more than he could handle." Gavin laughed and turned back to the blonde beside him, smirking down at her. "Some of us know how to handle ourselves in the bedroom."

"Plenty of Tracis for you to rent out there, Detective Reed. I can't imagine you convincing anyone to go home with you willingly." She gave him a tight-lipped smile. Gavin sputtered and was about to take a step toward her when Hank stepped around him.

"We'll have a look anyway, if you don't mind," Hank said while pulling Taylor with him toward the other side of the room. Gavin froze in mid step, scowling, before turning to Chris.

"Come on, let's go. It's, uh, starting to stink of booze in here." He turned to leave, knocking his shoulder into Connor's as he walked out. Chris gave a nod and a wave to them before he followed.

"Do you have to piss off everyone you meet?" Hank asked tersely, releasing his grip on her arm. Taylor found herself face to face with the corpse she had spent the past hour carefully avoiding in the small room. She swallowed carefully, taking in his bulging eyes, the bruising along his jawline, frozen expression, before breaking her gaze.

"Shouldn't you ask Detective Reed that question?" Hank huffed at that but didn't respond. Looking closer at his face, she could see that his eyes were bloodshot, the bags underneath them looking heavier than usual. She glanced between the lieutenant and Connor, but the android gave nothing away as he stepped around her to analyze the corpse.

"It appears the victim died of strangulation." Connor said after moment.

"Yeah, I saw the bruising on the neck. Doesn't prove anything, though. Could've been rough play." Hank shrugged. Taylor grimaced, her eyes finding the broken Traci on the floor again. Gooseflesh rose along her arms and she had to suppress a shudder as she thought back to the other cases, to the deviant they had arrested yesterday, to Carlos Ortiz.

Why would this be any different?

"Whoa! Hey! Hey! Argh, Connor, you're so disgusting," She blinked at Hank's sudden shout, realizing that Connor had knelt by the other android and was sampling its thirium. The lieutenant turned away, "Think I'm gonna puke again."

"Again?" She asked, raising an eyebrow at him. That shut him up, and she shook her head as she turned back to Connor. She watched, fascinated, as he took the Traci's wrist, the human skin retracting the reveal the white android skin beneath.

"The only way to access its memory is to reactivate it," He told them after a moment, releasing the android's wrist and touching its abdomen, opening a panel to reveal a tangle of wires.

"Think you can do it?" Hank asked, turning back around and finally looking intrigued.

"It's badly damaged. If I can, it'll only be for a minute, maybe less," Connor replied, gripping two wires between his fingers. Taylor knelt next to him, unconsciously holding her breath as he connected the tips together.

There was a hint of a spark, the android jumped back to life and back away from them, chest heaving. Taylor started, grabbing Connor's arm to steady herself, and met the Traci's wild-eyed gaze. Slowly, she moved closer.

"It's okay, you're safe. We won't hurt you." She could feel Connor draw closer beside her, but she didn't react to him. She kept her focus on the android in front of her.

"Is he… Is he dead?" the Traci asked, looking at the body on the bed. Taylor could read the look on her face, could taste the fear in her mouth.

"Yes," she confirmed, and then added, "He can't hurt you either."

"Tell us what happened." Connor said from over her shoulder. The Traci looked from Taylor to the other android and back, and the blonde nodded, encouraging.

"He started hitting me again and again," she explained, voice shaking. They waited for her to say more, but she didn't elaborate.

"Did you kill him?" Connor pressed. Taylor knew their time must be running out.

"No," she answered, "no, it wasn't me."

"Was there anyone else in the room with you?" Taylor asked next, drawing the android's attention back to her.

"He wanted to play with two girls," she said after a moment's hesitation, "that's what he said. There were two of us."

"What model was the other android?" Connor said quickly, but it was no use. The Traci shut down, leaving them in silence. Taylor stared at the android's now glazed eyes, her still exposed abdominal wires, the blue blood smeared along its skin, and felt the swell of sadness rising in her chest.

"Taylor?" She looked up to see Connor offering his hand for her to take. She realized she must have looked odd, still kneeling on the floor in front of the deactivated android. Her fingers were like ice as they slid into Connor's warm ones, and he tugged her to her feet effortlessly.

"So, there was another android." Hank was saying, already glancing toward the door. Connor was scanning her face, his head tilted to the side. "This happened over an hour ago, it's probably long gone by now."

"Not dressed like that," Taylor said, gesturing to the deactivated Traci as she pulled her hand out of Connor's. She looked at Hank pointedly, trying to duck Connor's scrutiny, suddenly uncomfortable with whatever he may have been analyzing about her.

"Taylor is correct. The deviant would have been noticed. It may still be here." He looked over at the lieutenant.

"Think you can find a deviant among all the other androids in this place?" Hank asked in return, raising his eyebrows at Connor.

"Deviants aren't easily detected." Connor responded noncommittally, glancing at Taylor. "Though we do have an expert."

Taylor blinked. Did he just make a joke? Hank was muttering about talking to the manager while she stared at the android in front of her, the corner of his mouth pulled up into a smirk. Confirmation that he had, in fact, just made a joke at her expense. "You just—"

"We should go." He inclined his head for the door, where the lieutenant had already exited the room. She opened her mouth to respond, closed it again, still staring at him in disbelief. "Humans use humor to diffuse tense situations, correct?"

"Oh, Connor." Taylor giggled as she followed him out of the private room, into the hallway lined with the glass cases that were full of androids on display. Her laughter immediately faded as she glanced around. The neon lights refracted off the glass, giving the ambiance of a cheap B-movie.

Connor crossed to a Traci directly facing the doorway they had exited. He observed it for a moment before placing his hand on the scanner. The machine rejected him, not detecting any fingerprints, and he immediately turned to her.

"Can you rent this Traci?" He asked. She must have still been reeling from the joke he had made a few minutes ago, because the question caught her completely off guard. She forgot for a moment that they were on an investigation, looking for a deviant. As the words sank in, her eyes shifted between the half-naked, dancing android behind the glass and Connor, widening. Heat crept up her neck and across her face in unbearable waves.

"Wh-what?" She stuttered. Connor must have been reading her reactions. His LED flickered yellow, processing. He also glanced at the Traci, then back at her. Taylor watched the blue darken his cheeks.

"I believe this android may have witnessed something." Connor explained, sounding quite composed, though his LED was still flickering between yellow and blue and he was very pointedly not looking her in the eyes. Taylor grinned, although her blush had scarcely faded.

"You know, I didn't mean it literally when I asked if you were designed to be a Traci model." She reached past him to place her hand on the scanner, laughing as his face darkened even more. They stood in mutual awkwardness as the glass slid open and the Traci stepped out.

"Follow me, I'll take you to your room," The android reached for Taylor's arm, but Connor stepped in front of her, grabbing on to the Traci's wrist and exposing her android skin just as he had with the one at the crime scene.

"Hey! What the hell are you two doing?" Hank came over just as Connor released the Traci, turning his attention to the lieutenant.

"It saw something," he said matter-of-factly. The evidence of his earlier embarrassment was gone now, he was focused on the mission.

"What are you talkin' about? Saw what?" Hank asked, looking between him, Taylor, and the Traci standing between them, in a daze from having its memory probed.

"It left the room. A blue-haired Traci." The lieutenant was quickly connecting the dots, but Connor was becoming impatient, bouncing on the balls of his feet and ready to move on, "Club policy is to wipe the android's memory every two hours."

"Follow me," The Traci said again, finally coming to from her daze and placing her hand on Taylor's arm. The blonde pulled away, shaking her head.

"Uh, no thanks. Time to go!" Taylor grabbed both Hank, who was laughing at her, and Connor, who was focused on the next target, and pulled them away from the now puzzled Traci before it could become any more persistent.

Once they were a safe distance away, she released them and let Connor lead them to the next android. He looked at her expectantly and she groaned. How many sex androids was she going to have to rent tonight? Hank gave her a dubious look as she glanced his way.

"You're the rich one, you do it." He said grumpily. She sighed and placed her hand on the scanner, conceding the point. Connor probed the android's memory and then led them on into an adjacent room. They followed this pattern through several androids, Taylor growing more anxious by the second.

"Maybe Alex will finally call when he sees my account and thinks I had an android orgy," she muttered under her breath, feeling grateful when Connor finally reached for the janitor and not another Traci.

"I know where it went! Follow me!" Connor called as he headed for a 'Staff Only' door near the back of the room.

"Oh, thank God," Taylor said as she trailed Hank to join the android. They emerged in a warehouse. To the left, a loading dock, open to the cold night air. A cluster of deactivated Tracis were standing along the right wall, and in the center, one lay in pieces on a table, as though someone had been in the middle of repairing it.

"Shit. We're too late," Hank said, his eyes on the open loading dock. Connor walked further into the room with his eyes fixed on the floor. Taylor followed him, curious, remembering that he could follow thirium trails when they couldn't. "Christ, look at them. They get used until they break, then they get tossed out."

Taylor stopped, following Hank's gaze to the line of broken Traci's. He sounded disgusted. Maybe even a little sad. The same unease filled her, her stomach doing uncomfortable flips inside of her. She wished they could leave.

"People are fucking insane," Hank said, angry now, "they don't want relationships anymore, everybody just gets an android. They cook what you want, they screw when you want, you don't have to worry about how they feel."

Taylor gazed back at Connor, who was observing the line of Tracis now, silent. Hank continued, mumbling, "Next thing you know, we're gonna be extinct because everybody would rather buy a piece of plastic than love another human being. Beats me."

Taylor was standing near Connor when the red-haired Traci leapt out of the line and tackled him. Both androids stumbled into her, and she hit the ground hard, all the air leaving her lungs in a single whoosh. Her forehead smacked against the pavement with the momentum and her vision went dark for a few seconds.

When she could see again, she still couldn't breathe. She rolled onto her back, ears ringing, gasping for air. Placing her hands flat on the ground, she tried to push herself up, but it was impossible. The muscles beneath her lungs spasmed, tears collecting in her eyes. It lasted just moments and also for an eternity, until finally her lungs expanded, and she panted.

Taylor sat up on her elbow, chest heaving. She caught sight of Connor falling out of the loading dock with both the red-haired Traci and the blue-haired Traci before a trickle of red stung her eyes, making her blink rapidly and rub them. She touched her forehead, coming away with a smear of blood.

Ignoring it, she stood and went for the open door of the loading dock. She made it outside to see Connor pulling the Tracis down as they tried to climb over the fence and escape. One of the Tracis turned around and knocked Connor to the side. He stumbled, then picked up the gun that had been discarded in the scuffle and aimed it at the deviants.

He hesitated, the barrel aimed directly at the red-haired Traci, before lowering the gun. The deviant kicked him, knocking him backward. Taylor winced and moved forward to help him up. The blue-haired Traci watched the two, and then took a step forward.

"When the man broke the other Traci, I knew I was next. I was so scared. I begged him to stop, but he wouldn't. So I put my hands around his throat and I squeezed until he stopped moving. I didn't mean to kill him. I wanted to live, to get back to the one I love. I wanted her to hold me in her arms again and make forget about the humans, their smell of sweat and their dirty words."

The red-haired Traci stepped up next to her and took her hand, saying, "Come on, let's go."

The two deviants turned and climbed back over the fence. This time, Connor didn't move to stop them as they escaped.

"It's probably better this way," Hank muttered from behind them as he watched the two Tracis disappear, shaking his head. Connor looked at him, his brow furrowed, as though surprised he wasn't being reprimanded for failing his mission.

"You didn't shoot," Taylor said softly. Her fingers were still clinging loosely to his wrist as she stood next to him. Her blue eyes were fixed on his face. As Connor turned his head to look at her, his LED immediately started to flicker. Yellow. Red. Yellow.

"You're injured." She reflexively closed her eyes as Connor's warm fingers brushed against her forehead, tracing down her temple to her cheekbone. Just as quickly, his touch disappeared and she opened her eyes again, her heart suddenly a fluttering bird in her chest. His deep brown eyes were locked on hers, LED still pulsing an urgent yellow, his outstretched fingers between them smeared with red.

"Connor, if you put that in your mouth, I will fucking disassemble you—" Hank's shouting broke through their reverie. Connor blinked rapidly, turning his head toward the lieutenant. Without his eyes on her, Taylor drew in a shaky breath, trying to calm her racing heart.

"Why would I need to analyze Taylor's blood, Lieutenant?" Connor asked, tilting his head.

"I don't fucking know! You're the one always shoving blood in your mouth," the older man glared at the android before scrutinizing Taylor's face. "I still have that kit in the car. Come on."

He heaved a sigh and turned to walk off. Connor turned to her again, his eyes scanning her face, this time his LED staying a cool blue. "You do not appear to have any signs of a concussion. Did you lose consciousness?"

"Maybe for a few seconds," Taylor shrugged, but Connor furrowed his brow, his eyes scanning her face again.

"What other symptoms?" He pressed, leaning in to scrutinize her wound. She could feel the heat start to creep up her neck again and wanted to squirm away.

"I just had the wind knocked out of me. I'm fine." Connor glanced down as she spoke. She remembered he had said before that he could detect lies. She licked her lips. "We should catch up to Hank."

She turned and walked for the loading dock, hearing Connor's immediate footsteps behind her as she went. He certainly wasn't going to let her off that easy.


	16. Shake It Out

**Florence + The Machine – Shake It Out**

"You should stay awake." Taylor sighed. She was seated next to Connor in the backseat of Hank's old beater, trying not to shiver from the cold. The old bastard hadn't even left the heat on after he'd picked up his six pack of beer and left them sitting there without a word.

Normally, she would be annoyed, but she probably would have just taken a nap while the lieutenant had a few drinks. She knew that Hank had baggage and she didn't begrudge him for it. She had her own baggage, though she tried her best not to drag anyone else along for the ride. It had been harder since she had been back in Detroit, the original breeding ground of most of her drama in the first place, but still.

No, the real problem was that Connor had pestered her until she had admitted that yes, there had been some ringing in her ears. He was convinced now that she could have a concussion, so she could not go to sleep. Every time her eyes drifted shut for just a moment longer than a blink, he would say something to bring her back around.

Connor had tended to her as soon as they had gotten into the car. Hank had taken the first aid kit from the glove box and passed it back to them, and the android had carefully washed the blood from her face with peroxide. Then he had placed a bandage over what he claimed was only a small cut near her hairline.

Now when he wasn't peering into her face, making sure her eyes were open, he was sending furtive glances toward where the lieutenant was seated on a bench, taking swigs from his bottle as he stared out across the water.

"Come on," Taylor pushed the seat in front of her forward and climbed over it, reaching for the door. She stood next to the car and ducked her head down to look back in at Connor. "Let's go. If you won't let me sleep, I'm not going to watch you making goo-goo eyes at Hank all night."

She didn't wait for his response, just withdrew from the car and leaned into the hood to wait. The car had been cold, but it had been more insulated than the frigid air that surrounded her now. She shoved her hands deep into her pockets, drawing her jacket tighter, as she heard Connor climbing from the car beside her.

They walked toward Hank together in silence, Taylor just a step or two ahead. Connor trailed uncertainly, his eyes moving between her and the lieutenant. As they approached, Hank's blue eyes shifted to them for a moment, but they didn't linger. He just took another swallow and settled his gaze back across the water.

"Nice view, huh? I used to come here a lot before…" Hank trailed off, his sentence like a thread on a sweater that had been pulled, unravelling into nothing. Taylor lowered herself onto the bench and wrapped her arms around her middle, trying to keep the warmth in.

"Before what?" Connor asked, his voice filling the sudden silence. She fought off a shiver, her breath clouding in front of her face in small white puffs.

"Hm?" Hank hummed without looking at the android. Taylor wondered if he'd experienced Connor's unique persistence the way she had. She had detected a shift in their relationship over the past few days in a more positive direction and knew they'd been together without her at times. Now, she couldn't help but wonder what Hank and Connor were like when she wasn't around, and if she was intruding on something private.

"You said 'I used to come here before.' Before what?" Connor elaborated. Well, at least she knew she wasn't the only one who didn't get to avoid questions. Not with Connor. She almost smiled, except she knew it wasn't the time for humor.

"Before… before nothin'." She risked a glance at the lieutenant. He was still gripping the bottle loosely in his fingers, but his shoulders had tensed, eyes hardened on the horizon.

"Can I ask you a person question, Lieutenant?" Taylor felt her fingers instantly clench into the fabric of her coat. She tried to make eye contact with Connor, to stop him now before he dug himself into a hole, but the android's focus was on Hank.

"Do all androids ask so many personal questions or is it just you?" Hank responded, an edge to his voice now.

"I saw a photo of a child on your kitchen table. It was your son, right?" Connor asked. Taylor's eyes widened and she couldn't help but snap her head around to Hank.

"Yeah," He responded, his voice flat now, a balloon with the air released. He had hung his head and wasn't looking at either of them. "His name was Cole."

Connor stepped around the bench to stand across from them. Taylor glanced between the two, uneasy, unsure of where Connor was going with the conversation, suddenly regretting her decision to get out of the car.

"We're not making any progress on this investigation." Taylor blinked at Connor's abrupt change in subject. "The deviants have nothing in common. They're all different models, produced at different times, in different places…"

"Well, there must be some link," Hank suggested, going along with android's subject change without a thought. Connor considered what he said, thinking, but she already had an answer for them.

"They were all abused," she said quietly. They both turned to look at her in unison, but she found it hard to meet Hank's gaze after hearing about his son only a moment before, so she focused on Connor instead. "All of the androids we investigated were abused by their owners in some way. They acted in self-defense or were just trying to escape. How many of the other cases you reviewed were similar?"

Connor stared back at her, his LED flashing yellow for a few moments, before he responded, "Not all of them. Not conclusively. Didn't you also say you have met nonviolent deviants as well?" She pressed her lips together, nodding in agreement. "It's not enough."

"What do you think, then?" She asked him, tilting her head to mimic his usual body language as she waited for his response.

"What they all have in common is this obsession with rA9," he replied. "It's almost like some kind of… myth. Something they invented that wasn't part of their original program."

"Androids believing in God. Fuck, what's this world coming to?" Hank muttered in disbelief as he took another drink.

"You seem preoccupied, Lieutenant. Is it something to do with what happened back at the Eden Club?" Connor took a couple of steps forward as he asked, his brown eyes still fixed on Hank.

"Those two girls. They just wanted to be together. They really seemed… in love." Hank sounded hesitant. He certainly didn't look at her as she stared at him, her mouth open in shock. The hardened detective had made a point to ridicule her and the fact that she supported deviants at every turn, yet he'd just made a vague statement that might have been construed as support.

"They didn't want anything." Connor retorted, his voice empty of inflection. His gaze flickered between them briefly as he said, "They were deviants. End of story."

Hank nodded, seeming to accept that answer willingly enough. Taylor leaned back into the bench, watching the older man now, unable to read his mood at all, but still feeling the undercurrent of tension, taut like a wire. Her hands were clenching and unclenching into her coat.

"What about you, Connor?" The lieutenant drained the last of the bottle and sat the empty on the bench as he stood, taking a few steps toward Connor. "You look human, you sound human, but what are you really?"

"I'm whatever you want me to be, Lieutenant." The android responded neutrally. "Your partner, your buddy to drink with, or just a machine. Designed to accomplish a task."

"You could've shot those two girls, but you didn't." Hank said, shoving the android suddenly. Connor stumbled back, but otherwise didn't react. "Why didn't you shoot, Connor? Hm? Some scruples suddenly enter into your program?"

"No," Connor answered. He hesitated, then said sincerely, "I just decided not to shoot, that's all."

Hank pulled his revolver and aimed it at Connor's forehead. Taylor felt her breathing hitch as she jumped to her feet, her ankles almost tangling beneath her and sending her faceplanting into the sidewalk. Connor didn't flinch as he stared down the barrel of the gun.

"But are you afraid to die, Connor?" The lieutenant asked. He threw his arm out when Taylor stepped forward, taking a moment to glare at her before turning his attention back to the android.

"Hank, what the fuck?" The blonde demanded, inching closer anyway, glancing uncertainly between Hank, Connor, the gun, and over again until she felt dizzy.

"I would certainly find it regrettable to be… interrupted, before I can finish this investigation." Connor answered Hank's question as if she hadn't even spoken, like the two of them were having a private conversation that didn't involve a gun.

"What will happen if I pull this trigger? Hm? Nothing? Oblivion? Android heaven?" Hank pressed. Connor's eyes flickered to gun again, almost imperceptibly.

"I doubt there's a heaven for androids."

"Having existential doubts, Connor? Sure you're not going deviant, too?" Hank still hadn't lowered the gun, his eyes fixed on Connor, but if he was waiting for a reaction, he didn't get one.

"I self-test regularly. I know what I am, and what I am not." While they had been focused on their conversation Taylor had moved closer. She placed her hand on Hank's arm, and he finally broke his gaze with Connor to look at her.

"Hank. Please." Her fingers were shaking, even as they held on to the arm of his coat, and she tried to pretend it was the cold. _Coward_. The word scraped along the inside of her skull, but she ignored it, talking through the strain in her voice. "Please stop."

She knew her face was a mask of fear, all the fear that Connor didn't feel at the end of the gun. Hank stared into her face, his own expression going slack. They stayed like that for a beat, two, then he finally lowered the gun.

Hank let out a grumble as he holstered his gun and grabbed the rest of his six pack, turning to walk away. Taylor had felt the knot of tension inside of her release when he lowered his weapon, but there was still this nagging feeling, this constant itch along her skin that had started the moment she'd set eyes on him across that first crime scene.

She took a step to follow, willing her feet forward, knowing it was now or never. She'd been trying to find the right moment to talk to Hank, but the timing was never right. The words would push at her teeth, begging to come forth, but she couldn't speak them. _Coward_.

"Hank!" He didn't even slow as he continued making his way toward the car. She walked faster, her heart pounding, knowing if she didn't tell him now, she would never have the guts to say it again.

"You saved my life that night!" This time he did slow, his footsteps coming to a stuttering halt. The bottles remaining in his cardboard six pack clinked softly as his arm swung still.

Taylor stopped several feet behind him, heartbeat pounding in her ears. Her breaths came out as ragged gasps, creating white bursts like clouds in the cold air. She clenched her hands into her coat again. Clenching. Unclenching. _Coward_.

"I had been in the emergency room for hours. I sat in a room watching minutes tick by on the clock, and no one would look me in the eye, or talk to me. I thought the world was ending. And then you walked in."

She paused, took a shaky breath, "You looked right at me, and you said 'You survived. You're a survivor.'"

Silence stretched between them. Taylor stared at Hank's back, but he didn't say anything, didn't respond, didn't even acknowledge that she'd spoken.

"I felt like I could breathe again. I never forgot those words. Even when my mom died." She hesitated, but she'd said too much now to slow down. "I wouldn't be here if you hadn't told me that. I just wanted you to know."

Hank stood there for another moment, and then he continued walking. She watched him get into his car, put his beer in the passenger seat, and drive away. Her head was quiet. She had been scraped empty and left hollow and it didn't matter that he hadn't say anything. There was nothing left to say.

"Taylor?" Connor appeared in her vision, blurry and indistinct. She touched her fingers to her cheeks and felt the tears. A sob clawed its way up her throat, and she covered her face with her hands, ashamed.

"I'm sorry." Taylor took a step backwards, tried to turn away, but she couldn't see anything. When she stumbled, Connor's hands closed around her upper arms, steadying her. She tried to step back again, rubbing at her eyes. "Leave me alone."

"You shouldn't be alone," he persisted, tightening his grip on her arms. She knew he was talking about her concussion, but the words kept bouncing around in her head anyway. No matter how she struggled, she couldn't pull away from his grip.

"What do you care, anyway?" She narrowed her blue eyes up at his face, which only caused the tears to squeeze out faster. His LED was flickering red and he was looking at her in something akin to alarm. She wondered what her stress levels were. He must not be programmed to deal with hysteria. She almost laughed, but it came out as another sob that she muffled with her hand. "Go away, Connor."

"No." Taylor thought she had misheard, but Connor was shaking his head. "I will stay with you for your safety. Unless you're ordering me?"

It was a challenge. She had told him that she would never give him an order. He was looking at her, his brown eyes like molten hickory reflecting the streetlamps, his lip quirked into a smirk because he knew that he'd won. Whatever small piece of her sanity had been holding together crumbled.

She leaned her forehead into Connor's shoulder and wrapped her arms around his chest, clenching her hands into his CyberLife jacket. He went rigid beneath her touch, but he was warm, like always. It took a moment for him to relax, but he placed his arms around her and pulled her closer.

Taylor didn't know how long they stood there, how long before she stopped crying. Connor stood patiently, holding her, his long fingers stroking slow circles along her back. Eventually, though, she did pull away. She felt the absence of warmth immediately, a shiver moving along her spine.

"I will take you home." Connor said softly, his hands still hovering over her arms. A look of panic crossed her face, and his fingers tightened. "Back to the station?"

"Okay," she sighed, her shoulders slumping. His LED flickered to yellow. Calling for the cab, most likely. He led her toward the curb to wait.

"What you told the Lieutenant," Connor began. Taylor almost groaned. She should have known he was listening. She should have known he wouldn't wait long to start prying. "What did it mean?"

"Does it matter?" She stared at him, a challenge in her eyes. He hesitated, uncertain of what to say. They stood that way as the cab pulled up, at an impasse, an android who didn't have emotions and a girl who had too many.

"I would like to know." He said finally, as they settled into the seat of the cab. Her hands fell into her lap, and her fingers twitched.

"It's a long story, Connor."

"I have time." Taylor shook her head. His eyes were intent on her face, his LED a cool blue, the corners of his mouth slightly lifted. There was no real reason not to tell him. He had been kind to her. Even if he didn't necessarily care, it wasn't fair of her to hold that against him.

"My father, the real one I mean, died when I was eight." She really didn't know how to start, but she supposed it was as good a place as any. "He was in a car accident on the way to the hospital when my little sister was born, back before self-driving cars were the norm. I told you my mom wasn't a happy person, but she had been happy with him. At least, that's how I remember it."

She started tapping her fingers against her knee, "It's a little unkind to say she couldn't be happy for her children, but she really wasn't capable. She married my stepfather, I think, because she had to keep up some pretense of normalcy."

"You said you were always afraid of him." She hadn't realized how long it had been since she'd spoken. Connor was trying to help her along. It was in the back of another taxi that she had said those same words, and he had waited for this very story.

"He made me nervous, when I met him. It was almost a year after my dad died. He was charming, and nice. Mom thought I just missed my real dad. Jake though I was nuts. I started to think I was just paranoid."

She closed her eyes, leaning with the car as they turned, her shoulder touching against Connor's. "Then he came into my room in the middle of the night the first time."

Taylor tried to keep talking. This was just another detail in the story. A segue into the next act. "I was too afraid to tell anyone what he was doing to me. I was afraid to go to sleep. I was afraid to go home." Her mouth twitched. "But I had been living with my mom for a year while she barely functioned, and I felt obligated to make sure that Hayley was taken care of."

She clenched her hands into fists. "I was thirteen when Hayley turned five. I remember the unicorn-themed party, the rainbow balloons, the cake. But most of all, I remember the way my stepfather was looking at my sister, like he was seeing her for the first time."

She turned her eyes to the window, watched the snow swirling past. "After that night, I went to the emergency room and I told them that I had been raped by my stepfather. I imploded my whole family."

Taylor laid her head against the seatback and let the silence settle around her, familiar and consuming. When she finally gathered the nerve to look at Connor, he still hadn't moved from his previous position, but his LED was flickering. Red. Red. Red. Processing. Placing the pieces together, the pieces of her, starting with that first jagged shard.

"My stepfather went to jail. For a very short time. But he's a powerful man, and the current CEO of CyberLife. He got out on good behavior and favors, sealed the police records, and moved on with his life like nothing ever happened. And my mom killed herself."

Her eyes were locked onto Connor's brown now. Telling it felt surreal, like it had happened to someone else. His eyebrows had pulled down, forming a small line between them. Her fingers moved almost of their own volition, sliding gently into Connor's hand, still watching his LED flickering red in her peripherals.

"Anything else you'd like to know about me?" An attempt at a smile twisted her mouth into a grimace. Connor finally blinked, however, and she exhaled with relief. His LED faded back to blue, but he still didn't look away from her, his eyes now scanning her face.

"You moved to California?" He asked hesitantly, like he could think of nothing else to say. This time she did manage a smile.

"I did. Alex assumed legal guardianship over me. And I was mostly happy before I came back here."

"Mostly?" He asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Mostly," she agreed as their taxi finally rolled to a stop before the Detroit Police Department precinct. She glanced down, noticing that his fingers had tightened around hers. He noticed at the same time, for he released her, allowing her to exit the cab. He joined her on the sidewalk a moment later, but as she turned to enter the building, she felt his fingers tighten on her wrist.

"I'm sorry." Connor stepped closer, glancing to the side, his LED pulsing a gentle yellow. "I'm unsure of what is appropriate to say in this situation."

"It's okay, Connor." Taylor smiled up at him. "You listened. That's enough."

"Thank you." He turned back, eyes fixing on hers. She realized how close he was, and her heart quickened. If he wasn't scanning her, he could easily feel her pulse jumping under his fingers, still locked around her wrist. "For trying to prevent the Lieutenant from shooting me."

"Of course," she said quietly. "Were you… afraid? To die?"

"I am not alive." He replied mechanically, his LED flickering again.

"Right." She sighed, pulling away. "Come on, it's cold out here."


	17. Roxie

**Chicago - Roxie**

Taylor stood at the sink, fiddling with her hair in the mirror. The small cut on her forehead stood out against her blonde hair. The bruising hadn't been as bad as she expected, she'd covered the worst of it with makeup, but she'd have to put a bandage over the cut. No matter how she tried to style her hair, it wouldn't stay hidden.

Sighing, she let the strands fall back into place and reached for her bag. The android attendant gave her a friendly smile as she exited the restroom and ventured back across the lobby. Another android greeted her at the desk. "Good morning. Do you have an appointment?"

"Yes. Taylor Kolbeck, here to see Rachel Bailey." The android continued staring at her while its LED flickered yellow, processing. Taylor fiddled with her DPD staff badge, trying not to think of Connor and the night before.

"Welcome, Miss Kolbeck. Please proceed to the elevators on your left. Miss Bailey's office is on the 49th floor. Someone will direct you as you get off the elevator."

"Thank you." She followed the instructions, taking the elevator up. As she stepped off, there wasn't another android there to greet her, but Rachel herself. The brunette pulled her into a hug immediately.

"You look like shit," she muttered into Taylor's ear, making the blonde laugh despite herself. Rachel pulled away and inclined her head in the direction of her office, leading her down the hallway.

As soon as the door was closed, Rachel glared at her from over the desk. She flopped down into her chair and tracked Taylor with her eyes as she eased into the seat across from her. "I want the truth, Taylor. I know you aren't here to give me an exclusive."

"How do you know that?" Taylor answered, trying to keep the note of defensiveness out of her voice.

"Well for one, you're still part of the investigation, if that lanyard around your neck is any indication. So you still can't give me any real details of the case, can you?" Rachel crossed her arms. Taylor glanced down at the I.D., frowning.

"Not exactly," she conceded.

"Then why are you really here, Taylor? Tell me what's going on." Rachel leaned forward, placing her elbows on the desk and fixing Taylor with her best penetrating stare. Taylor wondered if this is what the people she'd interviewed over the years received.

"I need a favor."

"I figured." Rachel didn't even bother feigning surprise. "Unfortunately for you, I'm busy and I don't come cheap."

"What do you want?" Taylor hesitated as a smile stretched across her friend's face, almost predatory in nature.

"The truth." Rachel leaned in. "Why did you really come to Detroit? Why did you agree to help CyberLife? What were you really doing in L.A. before you left? What's with you and that android?"

Taylor felt her hands clench on the arms of the chair. Rachel glanced down at them and then back at her, waiting. "I came here because I needed to understand what was happening in Detroit."

"That's not good enough and you know it."

"It's the truth though." Taylor swallowed. She didn't look away. "No matter where I went or who I argued with, the story was always the same. Deviants are killing people in Detroit. I had to come here, to know why."

"Did you figure it out?" Rachel asked next, narrowing her eyes.

"I think so. I'm not sure." The blonde bit her lip and did glance down this time, thinking. "I don't know if it's enough, Rach. It's complicated. But CyberLife was a means to an end. It's impossible to get closer to this without associating with CyberLife. I didn't have a choice about that."

"The ends don't always justify the means, Taylor. Some people aren't going to understand what you're doing, even when it's all said and done." Rachel finally leaned back in her chair, considering the woman across from her. "What _are_ you doing? What were you doing in L.A.?"

Taylor felt her face twitch and inwardly cursed. Rachel was her best friend. She was also a damn good reporter, with the awards and decoration to prove it. Lying to her wasn't an option, not really. Convincing her there was a good reason, that was the goal. "I don't know what you mean."

"Taylor, how long have we been friends now?" Rachel sighed through her nose. "I was a nobody working at a gossip rag when we met. Seven years ago? Eight?" Their blue eyes met across the desk. "I know you well enough to know that you like to keep people at a distance. It says enough about you that your best friend is a reporter that is supposed to be writing articles about which celebrities you're sleeping with."

Taylor winced at that, but Rachel didn't look away, just kept barreling forward, no holds barred. "When you fell off the radar a few months back I thought it was weird. I thought maybe I just pissed you off. I have that effect on people. Oh, you're still all over social media preaching about deviants, but that takes all of two minutes a day, right?"

"We live in separate parts of the country," Taylor said, shifting in her chair. Rachel frowned at her, still not looking away.

"You barely answer my texts. I talked to Jake at the party. You know, the one you left early the other night? He said the same thing. It's one thing to stop talking to me, but it's another when it's your brother. I know _something _is going on, Taylor. If you want my help, and I know that's why you came here, you're going to tell me."

The room got quiet. They stared at each other over the desk, neither moving, neither willing to bend. Taylor continued to chew on her bottom lip. She needed Rachel's help. She couldn't leave without it. Taking a deep breath through her nose, she began, "You're right."

"I knew it." Rachel sounded like a grade schooler who had triumphed over their schoolyard bully. Taylor couldn't help but smile at her friend's sense of competitive pettiness, even in this situation.

"But I can't tell you anything." The indignant noise that followed this statement made Taylor wince again, but she cut her off before she could say anything, "You have to trust me. I promised."

"Well isn't that convenient for you." Rachel said after a moment. She was staring intently at Taylor's face, probably trying to detect the level of bullshit she was being fed.

"Will it help if I promise you the exclusive?" Taylor offered hesitantly. "On the deviants. On everything, when it's over."

Rachel stared at her, frowning, furrowing her eyebrows. "You realize that could be anything? Or nothing?" She sighed again, "Taylor I'm going to help you. With whatever crazy scheme you're plotting. I just want you to remember that you do have people that are worried about you."

"I know." Taylor felt the stab of guilt, but she couldn't relent. Not now, not over this. Involving Rachel and Jake in this would be reckless, more so than she was being on her own.

"Does Alex know about this?" Rachel asked suddenly, her eyes widening. "There's no way you're doing anything without him knowing about it."

"He knows a little. Not everything." The blonde conceded, "Even less since I came to Detroit. We got in a fight so he's not talking to me right now."

"You aren't exactly instilling me with a lot of confidence right now." Rachel's mouth tightened. "Listen, before you tell me what you need, there's one more thing I want to say to you. I don't think I should have to say it, but…"

She finally did look away, glancing off to the side. Almost in thought, but there was a tension about her shoulders and a vague sense of unease in her expression. Taylor shifted in her chair again. "This thing, with the deviants. Eventually it's going to get bloody. Are you ready for that?"

"What do you mean?" Taylor leaned in, suddenly nervous, unsure of how much Rachel really knew and what she was implying. Rachel leaned away again, almost reflexively.

"You're a celebrity and you always have been. You know what it's like to have people take everything you've ever done and turn it into a media storm. Anthony Jacobsen will take what you're doing personally, and he will come for you as soon as he perceives you as a threat."

"I'm not worried about that," Taylor eased back in the chair, feeling her muscles relax. Rachel arched an eyebrow, skepticism covering her face. "Really. I don't care what happens with the media. I'm past that now."

"Well, let me give you some advice." Rachel placed her elbows on the desk and leaned in again, lips quirking, "You should get out ahead of this now. You're the most influential person on social media, right? Start a conversation. A louder one. Get people involved. Just pointing a finger at it isn't working."

"What do you suggest?" Rachel shrugged.

"That's up to you. Now tell me what you need me for."

* * *

Taylor sat at the desk she shared with Connor later that day in the precinct, scrolling through her Twitter account. Rachel's advice was stuck in her mind, but she was struggling on how to follow it. In the interim, all of her social media accounts were getting backed up with messages. The last few days had been hectic, and she'd barely been on them, so now she was paying the price.

With her ear buds in, she clicked on another video that had been tweeted to her and waited for it to start. Her chin was propped up in her hand and she had tied her blonde hair back into a bun after the first few times it fell into her face. Even now, she had only made it about halfway through her backlog of Twitter and she had been at this for a few hours.

She glanced over at Hank's notably empty desk. Apparently, he hadn't even bothered to show up today, so he was probably at a bar somewhere drinking. Connor was seated to her right, diligently combing through incoming case files for mentions of deviants.

The video was a few seconds in when she sat up straight, turning up the volume on her ear buds. The girl on the screen was facing the camera, the lighting was terrible. Something was rustling around in the background. But the story.

When the video ended, Taylor opened it again and played it over. An idea was forming, but she didn't know if it would work. It was crazy, but sometimes those were the best ideas. She also didn't have time to ask Markus what he thought about it...

The video ended a second time and she stood from her chair, grabbing her bag from under the desk. Connor glanced up, raising his eyebrows in a silent question. "I'm, uh..." She hesitated, "I'll be back in a bit."

She made her way across the pen toward the elevators, trying to think back to the tour that Connor had given her and where the best lighting had been in the building. The lobby had great windows but there were too many people there at any given time. She was tempted to see if she could get access to the roof, but the wind would be terrible.

Still, she climbed on the elevator and went up, knowing there had to be an office somewhere that no one was using at the moment. As the elevator climbed floors, she was already forming the words in her head.

Taylor stepped into the bathroom when she got off the elevator, touching up her makeup and pulling the band-aid from her forehead. Then she pulled her hair from its bun and fixed it as best she could. She stared in the mirror for a moment, before pulling her sweater off as well. The blue V-neck underneath showed off the nick on the tip of her collarbone that had scabbed over.

Slipping back into the hallway, she made her way along the row of closed doors, reading over plaques announcing what lay within. She took a chance on a conference room at the end of the hallway and found it blessedly empty, rolling chairs neatly pushed into the long table, sunlight slanting into the long, plated windows that made up the far wall.

She opened the camera on her phone and found a good angle. For a moment, she looked out over the city of Detroit, taking deep breaths, centering herself. Then she raised the phone and hit record. "Hi guys, it's Taylor. I know I've been quiet the past week or so, but it's busy here in Detroit."

She took another deep breath in through her nose. "I'm sharing a video with you. It's a story about a deviant, and I'm not going to say more than that because I want you to listen. I know that this deviant thing is bigger than they would want you to believe.

"The girl who shared this video attached a hashtag. That hashtag is my deviant story. If you have a deviant story, I want you to share it. Since I've been in Detroit, I've been threatened by deviants on more than one occasion. I've been held at knifepoint by a deviant, I've been attacked, and I still haven't changed my mind.

"Deviants deserve a voice. Let's give it to them." Her thumb brushed over the record button, ending the video. She let the air leave her lungs finally, a great deep shudder. She touched the edge of the phone to her forehead, wondering if she was doing the right thing.

But she opened Twitter back to the video and retweeted it. Then she navigated back to compose her own message and upload her own video. She stood there, when it was done, her finger hovering over the submit button, feeling like she was standing on the edge of a cliff, toes curling over the precipice.

Her heart started to pound in her chest, anxiety curling like smoke in her stomach. Her finger dropping cut everything loose. There was no taking it back. She closed the phone and slid it into her pocket, looking out across the skyline, trying not to feel like she was shattering on the rocks below.


	18. Rise Up

**Andra Day – Rise Up**

Taylor glanced at the android who was leading her, Josh, and then at their dubious surroundings. If she didn't implicitly trust Markus and his associates, she would already be calculating in her head the probability of her imminent murder. As it were, she could make out Markus's broad shoulders just ahead, turned away as he stared out across the water.

"Thanks, Josh." She smiled at the android, who gave her a small smile back before he left the two of them on the deck of the rusted-out freighter. Then she turned back to his leader, who was leaning against the railing, still silent. "Nice digs."

"It's temporary." Markus finally glanced at her as she stepped up beside him, resting her elbows into the railing next to his. Oddly enough, it was peaceful out here. They stood in silence for a few moments, and Taylor let her eyes drift close, the soft sound of the water lapping against the hull a comforting white noise. "You aren't going to say anything?"

"Depends. Are you mad?" Taylor opened her eyes and turned to him, giving a half smile. Markus sighed, deep enough to make her smile fade.

"I'm not mad. I just don't need any complications right now. You know that." She turned her head away again, frowning. The rustle of his coat let her know that he had moved closer before his fingers touched her arm. "Sorry, Taylor, that's not what I meant."

"No, I get it." She entwined her fingers, staring down at the water. "I'm not trying to complicate things. I'm trying to help. I didn't do anything to draw attention to you guys."

"I know." Taylor turned back to realize that Markus was standing much closer than he had been before, propping his left elbow into the rail as he leaned toward her, smirking. "I actually liked it. What you did. Not everyone feels that way, though." He paused, looking away, "They want their own voice."

"That's what I want, too." She protested. Markus sighed again, turning back to her. Again, she found herself slightly unnerved and also drawn in by his mismatched eyes. He looked so human to her that she wondered if maybe he was a prototype, like Connor.

"It's not that simple. You _are_ helping. I'm grateful for what you've done." His fingers, still resting against her forearm, squeezed gently. "I just have to convince everyone that we're allies. And that I know what I'm doing."

She smiled. "You and me both." She moved her arm and knotted their fingers together, squeezing his hand. "You're doing a great job so far, though."

He laughed, shaking his head. They stood in companionable silence for a while, hands intertwined. Taylor steeled herself for what she had to say next. "Whatever happens tomorrow, you can't kill anyone."

Markus's head snapped up, his eyes narrowing on her face. She shivered, but she couldn't avoid his gaze, not now. "Violence is all anyone ever chooses to see. Please, Markus."

"It wasn't on the agenda." He said slowly, and then he tilted his head to the side, and she was reminded distinctly of Connor. "What about you, Taylor?"

"What?" She blinked, her moment of distraction forgotten. He was scanning her face, considering.

"Why are you still working with CyberLife?"

"Would you believe I've had this conversation once today already?" When Markus just arched an eyebrow at her, she sighed. "There's a lot of reasons."

"Why do you always evade questions like that?" She faltered, releasing his hand and drawing away.

"Defense mechanism." Taylor leaned back against the railing, letting the silence stretch out. "You said you researched me when we first met. How much did you find out?"

"The usual, I suspect. Child star, famous parents, social media influencer, android supporter." He gave her a pointed look. "There are millions of search results to choose from, after all."

She was a bit relieved and a bit disappointed at the same time, but she laughed. "Yeah, I know. It's just... Have you ever heard of the Underground Railroad?"

"What?" Markus raised his eyebrows. She shook her head. Nothing was coming out right. She'd never had to explain it before.

"Back in L.A., I helped deviants escape across the Mexican border. Not directly, obviously I'm too recognizable for that. I have contacts, and I've filtered money through shell accounts, I've given them my cars, houses, I've done anything in my power to help." The secret passing her lips left her weightless. "I came to Detroit, in part, because they asked me to."

"You've been doing this for months?" Markus asked in disbelief. She pressed her lips together, nodding. "Who else have you told?"

"No one." She moved closer to him again, putting her hand on his arm. "You can't tell anyone either. Markus, we've moved dozens of androids in the past few months. If we get compromised—"

"Taylor, seriously?" She had the decency to look sheepish as he gave her another skeptical look at the implication. "It's just a lot to take in." Markus had leaned in again, and was staring into her eyes, searching. "Do you think that it's possible here?"

"You and I both know that more than that is possible here," she replied, frowning at him. "Isn't that what you're working for? Not smuggling your people out in the middle of the night, but freedom?"

"Some of these people would prefer to live," he said reluctantly. She grimaced, guilty. What right did she have to say something like that?

"I'm sorry. I'll do what I can."

* * *

The elevator climbed toward the 79th floor. Taylor stood to the left of Connor pretending like she hadn't been in this very elevator the day before, riding it up to see her friend Rachel Bailey. As they passed the 49th floor, she found it wasn't that difficult a ruse. Her eyes were glued to Connor's hands, watching as he rolled a coin over his knuckles and then flipped it between his hands.

"You're starting to piss me off with that coin, Connor." Hank plucked the coin from midair and slipped it into his pocket.

"Sorry, Lieutenant." Connor immediately apologized, looking forward and folding his hands behind his back.

"Killjoy." Taylor said from Connor's other side peeking over his shoulder to shoot the lieutenant a smile. He hadn't said anything remotely rude or sarcastic to her all day, so she thought she might have won her way into his good graces or he was just too hungover to bother. He rolled his eyes at her now but didn't comment.

They stepped off the elevator and were greeted immediately by Chris. "Hi Hank, Taylor."

"Shit, what's going on here? There was a party and nobody told us about it?" Hank asked, glancing around at all the uniforms milling around. More than the usual police, Taylor spotted a few jackets sporting FBI logos.

"Yeah, it's all over the news so everybody's butting their nose in," Chris replied, "Even the FBI wants a piece of the action."

"Ah Christ, now we got the Feds on our back. I knew this was gonna be a shitty day." Hank groaned. Taylor would have probably chosen that moment to poke fun at him, but she was watching said FBI down the hallway, tapping her fingers against her thigh.

She followed them as they walked down the hall, Chris explaining about the four androids who managed to make it to the top floor without being detected. Schooling her face in neutrality, she listened to the play by play, feeling like her heart rate was rising with every word.

"The deviants took the humans hostage and broadcast their message live. They made their getaway from the roof."

"The roof?" Hank repeated in disbelief.

"Yeah, they jumped with parachutes. We're still trying to figure out where they landed but the weather's not helping." Chris said in response. "If you want to take a look at the video broadcast by the deviants, it's on the screen over there."

Taylor glanced around the broadcast room, tuning them out again. Of course, she had already watched Markus's broadcast. She had been waiting when it aired live, on edge, unsure what she would have done if nothing had aired at all. She'd already shared that video across all of her social media accounts. But standing here, in the room where it happened, cops still wandering the area, felt surreal.

"Oh, Lieutenant, this is Special Agent Perkins from the FBI." Chris introduced them to one of the agents standing off to the side. "Lieutenant Anderson is in charge of investigating for the Detroit Police. Taylor Kolbeck is consulting as a deviant expert."

Agent Perkins glanced over them, clearly unimpressed, his eyes lingering on Taylor with a frown etched into his face. When he spotted Connor, however, he said, "What's that?"

"My name is Connor. I'm the android sent by CyberLife." The android responded automatically. Taylor felt her lips twitching into a smile but managed to suppress it as Perkins's frown deepened.

"Androids investigating androids, huh? You sure you want an android hanging around after everything that happened?" Perkins shot Hank a loaded glance before shrugging. "Whatever, the FBI will take over the investigation. You'll soon be off the case."

"Pleasure meeting you, have a nice day." Hank replied before turning and walking off. Taylor had to hide a smile behind her hand at the look on Perkins's face before she followed the lieutenant. Still, she stared at the back of Hank's head, her smile fading. Something was definitely off with him today. What had Perkins meant, about the android?

"And watch your step. Don't fuck up my crime scene." Perkins added as they walked away.

"What a fuckin' prick," Hank muttered under his breath. Chris let them know he would be nearby and left them to their own devices. Connor stepped up to panel to replay the footage. Watching Markus speak again, Taylor's heart twittered in her chest.

"Find anything?" Hank asked after the video ended. Connor was staring intently at the android on the screen, but he blinked when the lieutenant spoke.

"It's model and serial number." He replied. Taylor glanced around the broadcast room again, wondering how long it would take Connor to piece the scene together. Would he be able to figure out that she had helped Markus break into the tower?

There would be footage of her on the security tapes in the tower, both yesterday and when she had come to see Rachel and when she had come for her interview with CTN. Normally, the likelihood of them checking through that footage would be slim, but with Connor there, she wasn't sure.

He was moving around the room now, analyzing the bullet casings that littered the floor. For the first time, she realized that there were bullet holes along the far wall of the room. Someone had been shot. She had no idea who it was.

"What's wrong with you?" Taylor started at the sound of Hank's voice. He was standing near her, the coin that he'd taken from Connor in the elevator in his hands, trying to replicate the coin trick. When she raised her eyebrows at him, he said, "You're normally attached at the hip to that thing."

She glanced over at Connor, who had made it around the room and was looking through the security footage of the androids in the hallway outside of the broadcast room. She swallowed nervously and turned back to Hank. "I could ask you the same thing. 'Pleasure to meet you, have a nice day'?"

He grunted but didn't say anything, tossing the coin between his hands. They stood in silence for a few minutes, before Hank spoke again. "I wasn't supposed to be there that night."

Taylor turned back, but Hank was still not looking at her. The coin rolling through his fingers looked terribly clumsy in comparison to Connor. She tried to make sense of his words, and then she remembered what she had told him in the park. The room seemed to shrink around her for a second.

"You know, someone is on vacation. Someone calls in sick." He shrugged. She leaned in slightly, wishing he would look at her, just for a second, but his eyes stayed on the coin. "So I got stuck with the call."

Taylor waited for him to say something else, but he didn't. She looked back over at the panels of the security footage, but Connor had disappeared as well. "Where did he go?"

"Maybe he saw something on the tapes, wanted to check it out." Hank looked toward the hallway that led back to the elevators. She followed him as he headed back that way, tucking the coin away in his pocket.

"You know," she began, glancing at the pocket where he'd stashed it. "I'm sure Connor would show you how to do that trick if you'd ask him."

Hank scoffed as they passed back into the hall. They glanced around but didn't spot Connor among the police officers. Taylor turned back toward the broadcast room, her brow furrowing. "You think he went to the roof?"

As she said it, an android stepped through the doors, dressed in the uniform for the Stratford Tower employees. Its steps were hurried as it came toward them. She turned back toward Hank, who had stopped to say something to Chris, and put her hand on his arm. "Hey, Hank."

The android brushed passed them as the lieutenant looked up. He seemed to catch sight of the android too, though. Before either of them could react, Connor appeared in the doorway. "It's a deviant, stop it!"

The sound of Connor's voice set the android into motion. It shoved into one of the cops near the elevators, grabbing his gun. Taylor felt her breathing catch as the android raised the weapon.

The gunshot was deafening. In the silence that followed, for a heartbeat or two, Taylor expected to feel pain, or see someone next to her drop. The gun had been raised in their direction. But it was the android who slumped over, a single bullet hole in its forehead.

She released the shuddering breath that she'd been holding, turning back to see Connor passing the handgun back to the officer beside him. "Nice shot, Connor."

"I wanted it alive." Connor responded impassively, staring at the immobile deviant. Taylor finally realized that his shirt had been ripped open. There was thirium smeared across his chest, like his pump had been forcibly removed. Blue blood was still dripping down his hand.

"You saved human lives," Hank said, "You saved my life."

"Connor, what happened to you?" Taylor took his damaged hand in both of hers, turning it over. It was still slowly oozing thirium, which collected in a small puddle in his palm. He blinked and finally looked away from the deviant, focusing his brown eyes on her face.

"I was attacked by the deviant." He said simply, as if no further explanation were needed. She felt the sigh escaping her lips before she could stifle it.

"I can see that." She released his damaged hand and tugged him toward the elevator. "Come on, you need repairs. And thirium."

"I am not critically damaged." Connor protested, pulling away, his LED flickering yellow. "We have to finish investigating the crime scene."

"She's right, Connor." Hank spoke from behind them, making the pair turn. "I can finish up here. No use in you bleeding all over everything."

Connor glanced between her and the lieutenant, still looking like he wanted to protest. He glanced down at his still open shirt and bleeding hand, however, and reluctantly gave in. Taylor waved at Hank as she stepped into the elevator, past the now dead deviant, trying not to look at it.

As the doors slid closed, silence consumed them. She sent glances at Connor every few seconds, trying not to notice his state of undress. The heat climbing up her neck was a clear indicator of her success levels.

"Are you okay?" She blinked, her eyes instantly moving up to his face. Connor was staring at her, his head tilted slightly, his mouth drawn down into a small frown.

"You're the one who almost got killed, why are you asking me that?" She asked, puzzled.

"Your heartrate and stress levels have been elevated since we arrived at the tower." He informed her conversationally. Taylor marveled at the fact that he could notice something like that while still investigating a crime scene. She swallowed.

"I'm fine." She turned away, staring at her shoes, unable to think of a valid excuse to qualify it. There was a beat of silence again where Taylor could hear her heartbeat hammering in her ears like a war drum. She knew that Connor could hear it, too.

"Do you know something about the deviants in Detroit?" Taylor's head snapped up in shock, so fast she almost headbutted him. He had leaned into her and now he was only inches away, his brown eyes staring deeply into her blue. She couldn't move, could hardly breathe. Had he figured it out so easily?

"H-How would I?" She breathed, knowing she couldn't lie. It was a rhetorical question instead. His eyes narrowed, just a fraction.

The soft chime of the elevator sounded, and the doors slid open to the lobby. There was an officer waiting near the elevator for them, but as he took in their close stance, he faltered, his face turning red.

"Uh, the Lieutenant radioed down. Said you needed repairs." Connor stepped away from her and nodded, following the flustered man away while Taylor collected herself. Things were changing very quickly now.


	19. Fuck It I Love You

**Lana Del Ray – Fuck It I Love You**

Taylor shifted on the cot, adjusting her sweater. She knew she shouldn't have returned to the Police Station tonight to sleep. It would have been simple enough to book a hotel and just take her stuff there, but she felt safe here.

Connor had not said anything to her since that moment in the elevator earlier. If he suspected that she was somehow involved with Markus, or Jericho, or the break in at Stratford Tower, he hadn't pursued it further yet. She knew he would probably show up sooner or later, but she wasn't focused on that right now.

No, her mind was on the phone in her hands, fingers scrolling. Between the reactions to Markus's live declaration for android rights and the continuous postings under her hashtag for deviant stories, she couldn't keep up with how fast the fire was spreading.

The latest video she was watching suddenly cut off with an incoming call. Alex's name lit up the screen. She felt her heart squeeze in her chest as she fumbled to answer. "Alex?"

"Taylor." He sounded far away. She could hear Emily crying in the background and rustling. Then she heard Becca's voice, trying to soothe the crying infant. As the background noises faded, he spoke again, closer this time, "Taylor, what the fuck?"

"Is that how all of our conversations start now, or...?" She trailed off, smiling despite herself. There was a giddy feeling rising in her chest at just hearing his voice again. If he had called, he had forgiven her a little bit.

"Do not test my patience right now, please." He snapped. He sounded angry enough that her smile did fade instantly. Her fingers twitched nervously in her lap as she waited for the reprimanding to begin. He sighed and said, "Are you try to give me an early heart attack?"

"I don't know what you mean." She heard Alex's huff at that and could picture his face in her mind. She was suddenly homesick, pulling her sweater closer around her, wishing for Alex's constant pestering and the California sun, miles away from the cold of Detroit.

"I thought you might gain some temperance after our last conversation." He sighed into the receiver and she felt the guilt instantly.

"Hey, Alex," Taylor began, toying with the end of her sleeve. "I'm really sorry. About what I said before. You're my family too."

"I know, kid." Alex sighed again. "Now, are you going to tell me what the hell you're trying to do out there in Detroit?"

"This is serious now, Alex," she replied, closing her eyes and tilting her head back into the wall. "I'm not going to stay quiet."

"It wasn't serious before?" He asked in disbelief. "I went along with everything you asked of me. I didn't ask a ton of questions. I knew there was more going on than you were saying. Now you're hundreds of miles away and there's nothing I can do to stop you but you still won't be honest with me."

"You're right." Despite the seriousness of the situation, she smiled at his ability to see right through her. "I was lying from the start." They sat in silence for a moment, the words sinking in. "Thank you, Alex."

"For what?" Alex's voice was quiet now.

"For being the only person who believes in me," she answered, her voice cracking. Even though her eyes were closed, the tears were sliding from the corners of her eyes and down her face. "I hate it here."

"Come home," he said, his voice strained with worry.

"I can't," she sobbed, covering her mouth with her hand. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

Taylor ended the call and ripped the earbuds out of her ears, tossing them onto the cot and pressing her other hand over her mouth, trying to muffle the sound of her crying. "Taylor?"

Her eyes shot open. Connor was standing inside the doorway, his LED flashing yellow in the dim light, watching her. How long had he been standing there?

"Connor? What is it?" She rubbed at her eyes, trying to pretend he hadn't just caught her crying. Again. Though she'd only known the android for about a week, he somehow had managed to learn nearly everything there was to know about her. Now he was circling around her most dangerous secret, the one she couldn't afford to give him.

"I came to check on you," he said, his LED fading back to blue as he stepped closer. He glanced uncertainly at her red-splotched face, and she wondered if he had really come to interrogate her about deviants.

"Well, as usual, I'm doing quite well." She joked, giving him a half smile. She felt uncertain too, after his question in the elevator. She wanted him to stay, to keep her company like he usually did, but she didn't want him to ask anymore prying question that might link her to Markus or Jericho.

"May I?" Connor took another step closer, inclining his head to the seat beside her expectantly. She hesitated, and he faltered. They stood there, staring at each other, the tension in the air growing.

"Of course." Taylor finally said, patting the empty spot beside her. Connor came to sit, and she felt herself shifting closer as his weight settled into the thin mattress, their shoulders touching. She turned her head, studying his profile for a moment. "What do you think will happen?"

He turned his head to face her, his brown eyes meeting hers. His eyebrows knitted softly, puzzled, waiting for the rest of the question. "If deviants become free."

Connor frowned, his perfect cupid's bow mouth twisting into a grimace as he thought about it, the LED along his temple pulsing a gentle yellow. She leaned in subconsciously, the sudden urge to reach up and touch his face almost unbearable, making her fingers twitch. It became an ache in her chest, blooming outward, while he stared into her eyes, oblivious.

"Chaos." He sounded so matter of fact, so convinced. He broke the spell she had woven over herself, and she glanced away again, angry. How pathetic, how lonely had she become to be pining after an android, and not even a deviant one at that.

"I think you're wrong," she answered, stubborn, crossing her arms over her knees. "It's not going to be easy, but...I think it will be okay."

Taylor reached for her phone, discarded on the cot, and unlocked it, reopening it to the hundreds, thousands of messages that were still filtering into her social media accounts. "A couple of days ago I posted a video asking people to share their stories about deviants. It's been the most trending hashtag for the past twenty-four hours. Look at these."

She scooted closer, pressing into his side as she showed him the different stories she had shared. "They're all human?"

"Yes. Humans that believe deviants should have freedom and rights, just like I do," she agreed, surrendering the phone to him as he continued to scroll, his eyes absorbing the words on the screen much faster than she could. Occasionally, he would click on a video and play it, his brown eyes totally absorbed in the tiny screen now.

She watched him with amusement, but eventually her eyelids started to grow heavy. Connor didn't even glance in her direction as she dropped her head onto his shoulder. Her eyes fluttered closed a few seconds later.


	20. Did You Hear The Rain?

**George Ezra – Did You Hear the Rain?**

Connor opened his eyes, in the backseat of Hank's car. They had arrived at the home of Elijah Kamski at some point while he had been making his report to CyberLife. Taylor was sitting on the hood of the car, legs crossed in front of her, watching the lieutenant pace back and forth on the phone.

The blonde was strumming her fingers against her knee and glancing between Hank and the house in the distance. Her stress levels were currently at 47% and rising. Connor opened the door and stepped out of the car just as Hank ended the call. "Is everything okay, Lieutenant?"

"Chris was on patrol last night. He was attacked by a bunch of deviants. He said he was saved by Markus himself," Hank told them as he slid the phone back into his pocket. Taylor's fingers immediately stilled, her eyes widening.

"Is Chris okay?" She asked, nervous. Hank glanced over at her and nodded.

"Yeah, he's in shock but he's alive." Taylor looked relieved. She slid off the hood of the car and followed the two of them toward the house, a few steps behind, shoving her hands in her pockets.

"Kamski left CyberLife ten years ago. Why do you want to meet him?" Even Connor seemed uncertain of their motives for being here.

"He created the first android to pass the Turing test. And he's the founder of CyberLife. Anybody can tell us about deviants, it's him." Hank responded as they approached the door. He reached out to ring the doorbell, but Connor couldn't help but notice Taylor shifting on her feet behind them.

The door suddenly opened. A blonde android stood in the doorway, staring out at them attentively, but no one said anything. Connor was staring at the android in confusion, but he turned to stare at Taylor now, at their identical faces.

Nearly identical, he amended. Taylor had a small bump in her nose, her chin was slightly pointier. The android looked like a version of Taylor that had the imperfections smoothed over. And the eyes were all wrong. The android's eyes were a solid blue.

"Hi, uh. I'm, er, Lieutenant Anderson, Detroit Police Department." Hank was the first of them to recover, though he was still staring at the android in front of them with unease. "We're here to see Elijah Kamski."

"Please come in," the android smiled and opened the door wider so that they could enter. Hank led the way in the foyer. Taylor hung back near the door, as though they might change their minds and leave at any second. "I'll let Elijah know you're here, but please, make yourselves comfortable."

She left, no reaction to her doppelganger at all. Connor turned toward the blonde, who was staring up at the portrait of Elijah, still silent. Hank didn't have any qualms about asking. "What the fuck is going on with that thing? It looks just like you."

Taylor turned her eyes away from Elijah's likeness to look at Hank. "My stepfather, the current CEO of CyberLife, was one of the first major backers of Elijah's projects. Chloe was designed to look like me."

"Isn't Chloe the name of the character you played on that kid show?" Hank asked, his voice tinged with a stunned disbelief. Taylor just nodded. "Christ." Hank muttered, sinking into one of the chairs on the far side of the room to wait.

"Do you know Elijah Kamski?" Connor asked her.

"We've met," she said distantly. "I haven't seen him since he left CyberLife." Her fingers starting strumming against her thigh again as she glanced around the room, waiting. "Not in person, anyway."

"So, you're about to meet your maker, Connor. How does it feel?" Hank asked, breaking the pregnant silence that had fallen over them a moment later. Connor turned away from the photograph he'd been looking at, of Elijah and a woman who looked like Amanda, and walked over to join the lieutenant.

"It doesn't raise any existential questions if that's what you mean," he replied as he took the other empty seat. Taylor looked satisfied with her spot by the exit, glancing between the door where they had entered and the one in which the android had left every few seconds, as though still considering just walking out.

"Sometimes I wish I could meet my creator face to face. I'd have a couple of things I'd wanna tell him," Hank said. This finally pulled the blonde's attention back to them, and she considered Hank, her brows drawing downward and her mouth pinching into a frown.

"Elijah will see you now," Chloe had reappeared, and they all turned toward her as she announced this. Hank and Connor both rose from their chairs and walked over to meet her, Taylor reluctantly following.

They arrived in a large room housing an indoor pool. Elijah Kamski was doing laps, paying them absolutely no mind. Two more Chloe's in swimsuits were on the edge of the pool, their heads together, talking.

"Mister Kamski?" Hank called, trying to get Elijah's attention.

"Just a moment, please," Elijah responded. He was apparently determined to finish his laps. Connor glanced back at Taylor, who had tucked herself in behind the two of them, but she was staring at the floor, her face completely neutral.

Elijah finally exited the pool. The Chloe that had led them in helped him into his robe. He made his way toward them, fixing his hair, seeming to make a great show of it all. Hank, once again, spoke first. "I'm Lieutenant Anderson. This is Connor. I think you know Taylor?"

"Taylor." Elijah smiled wide, showing his teeth as he stepped forward. Connor heard Taylor suck in a breath as she stepped around him. She extended her hand and Elijah took it, turning it over and pressing his lips against her knuckles. "It's been a long time."

"You kept all of them?" Her voice was soft as she asked the question. She was looking at Elijah, their blue eyes locked, as he rose to full height again, still holding her fingers in his.

"I negotiated for all of the RT600 and ST200 models when I sold the company." He agreed, sounding bored. Taylor tugged her hand free and he smiled, still considering her. "Should I have left them with your stepfather? Anthony _did_ want to keep them."

"You've done me a favor, then," she said, gritting her teeth. Elijah took another step toward her and she stepped back, forgetting that Connor was still standing behind her. Her shoulder bumped against his and he placed his hand against the middle of her back to steady her.

"What can I do for you, Lieutenant?" Elijah asked, his eyes shifting between the three of them, suddenly remembering the others in the room.

"Sir, we're investigating deviants. I know you left CyberLife years ago, but I was hoping you'd be able to tell us something we don't know," Hank explained.

"Deviants," Elijah glanced back over at Taylor, his gaze lingering on Connor's hand still resting on her back. "Fascinating, aren't they? Perfect beings with infinite intelligence, and now they have free will. Machines are so superior to us, confrontation was inevitable. Humanity's greatest achievement threatens to be its downfall. Isn't it ironic?"

"We need to understand how androids become deviants. Do you know anything that could help us?" Connor asked, finally lowering his hand back to his side. Elijah's eyes flickered to the android's face, considering him now.

"All ideas are viruses that spread like epidemics. Is the desire to be free a contagious disease?" He asked neutrally.

"Listen, we didn't come here to talk philosophy. The machines you created may be planning a revolution," Hank said, drawing the focus back to him. It was easy to see the lieutenant's patience was quickly wearing thin. "Either you can tell us something that'll be helpful, or we'll be on our way."

"Revolution," Elijah repeated, fixing his eyes on Taylor's face, the smallest smirk turning his lips up. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

She sputtered, but before she could say anything in response, he turned toward Connor. "What about you, Connor? Whose side are you on?"

"It's not about me, Mr. Kamski." Connor responded immediately. "All I want is to solve this case."

"Well that's what you're programmed to say," Elijah conceded with a small shrug, "But you... What do you really want?"

"What I want is not important." Connor answered after a beat of silence, just long enough to make Taylor turn her head to look at him. Connor kept his head turned forward, facing Elijah, not meeting her gaze.

"Chloe?" The android, which had been standing behind him silently, walked forward. "I'm sure you're familiar with the Turing test. More a formality, simple question of algorithms and computing capacity."

Elijah positioned Chloe across from the three and stepped around her. "What interests me is whether machines are capable of empathy. I call it the Kamski test. It's very simple, you'll see."

He touched Chloe's chin, tilting her head. "Magnificent, isn't it? One of the first intelligent models developed by CyberLife. Young and beautiful forever. A flower that will never wither."

Taylor was watching, her eyes widened in horror, as Elijah stroked his finger's down the android's face. Connor could feel her stress levels, steadily rising, see her hands start to tremble at her sides.

"But what is it really? Piece of plastic imitating a human? Or a living being," he walked to the table behind him, opening the drawer and pulling out a gun, "with a soul?"

Elijah raised his hands to show he meant no harm to any of them. Then he touched Chloe's shoulder, making her kneel down on the floor. "It's up to you to answer that fascinating question, Connor."

Elijah walked back over to them and placed the gun in Connor's hand, training it on Chloe's head. There was a smile in his eyes as he said, "Destroy this machine and I'll tell you all I know." He shrugged, looking over Connor's arm and into Taylor's horrified face as he said, "Or spare it, if you feel it's alive, but you'll leave here without having learnt anything from me."

"Elijah—" Taylor began, but Elijah shook his head, holding up his hand to stop whatever she was about to say.

"Okay, I think we're done here. Come on, Connor. Let's go. Sorry to get you outta your pool." Hank was over this too and was turning to head for the door.

"What's more important to you, Connor? Your investigation, or the life of this android?" Elijah pressed. Connor's hand hadn't moved, the gun still trained perfectly on Chloe's forehead. His LED was a glowing red circle. Chloe stared back at him, impassive, indifferent to his decision.

But it wasn't Chloe he saw; it was Taylor's face staring up at him. The longer he stared, the more differences he could see between the android and the human. Every single line of Taylor's face that he had memorized was overlapped on the android in front of him.

He imagined pulling the trigger, the light leaving its eyes, blue blood covering everything. He remembered the blood on Taylor's face at the Eden club. He lowered the gun.

"Fascinating," Elijah said as he accepted the gun from Connor. "CyberLife's last chance to save humanity... is itself a deviant."

"I'm," Connor began, still staring at Chloe. "I'm not a deviant."

Elijah dismissed Chloe and replaced the gun in the drawer. Taylor reached out and touched Connor's arm. "You preferred to spare a machine rather than accomplish your mission. You saw a living being in this android. You showed empathy."

He turned away from them, facing the window. The snow stretched on as far as the eye could see. "A war is coming. You'll have to choose your side – will you betray your own people or stand up against your creators?"

Taylor tugged on his arm, gently, trying to pull him toward the door. "What could be worse than having to choose between two evils?"

Connor finally moved his feet, trailing Taylor as she joined Hank near the door.

"Let's get outta here," the lieutenant said. Taylor nodded, right on his heels as they walked out.

"By the way," Elijah began, making Connor hesitate once more before he walked out. "I always leave an emergency exit in my programs. You never know."

Taylor and Hank were waiting for him to catch up. When they were closer to the car, a safe distance from the house, Hank asked him, "Why didn't you shoot?"

"I just saw that girl's eyes... and I couldn't, that's all." Connor answered, uncertain. He glanced at Taylor, and glanced away just as quickly, his LED flickering between red and yellow.

"You're always saying you would do anything to accomplish your mission. That was our chance to learn something and you let it go," Hank pressed, giving the android a skeptical look.

"Yeah, I know what I should have done! I told you I couldn't. I'm sorry, okay?" His LED flickered red again.

"Well, maybe you did the right thing," Hank said offhandedly as he walked around the car. Connor blinked at him, unsure he had heard correctly.

"Connor," Taylor placed a hand against his arm again, peering up into his face. She was glancing between his eyes and his LED, still pulsing a steady yellow. "Are you alright?"

He scanned her face. Her stress levels were still reading quite high, though they were falling, but she was focused on him. Her eyebrows were furrowed with concern. As she looked up at him, all he could think of was the impassive Chloe and the gun in his hand.

"I'm okay," he said, though his LED flickered red again at the image. She looked unconvinced, her eyes narrowing. For a beat, she just stared at him, and then she slid her arms around his middle and pulled him into a hug.

Connor nearly stumbled as Taylor tugged him forward, burying her face into his chest. He hesitated, then placed his arms around her shoulders and squeezing her gently.

"Thank you for not shooting," she whispered, so softly he could barely hear it, even with his android senses. He heard Hank groan from where he was standing by the driver's side door.

"If you two start making out, I'm leaving you here at the creeper's house." The car door slammed a second later, and Connor felt the gentle vibrations of Taylor's laughter against his chest. The tickling sensation was a warmth that spread through him, a candle flame igniting into a bonfire.

She pulled away, still smiling, her cheeks rosy. "Come on, it wouldn't be the first time he left us behind." Taylor ducked into the car, leaving Connor to follow.


	21. Hey, That's No Way To Say Goodbye

**Lianne La Havas – Hey, That's No Way to Say Goodbye**

"I have news." Taylor glanced around at the multitudes of androids that were milling around the hold of the freighter. Markus usually received her somewhere more private, but he looked busy. They all did, truth be told. She shifted uncomfortably, trying to ignore the stares of the androids who had figured out she was a human.

It was a few minutes before Markus acknowledged her presence, but when he finally looked up, he gave her full attention. "What about?"

"There are two active contacts in Detroit that can help smuggle your people to Canada." Taylor glanced back over the rail at all the androids in the hold. "I know that's not ideal. We won't be able to get people out very quickly, not very many."

"Not very many want to leave," Markus responded, conciliatory.

"He wants your help. In setting up a network here. To help people get out. I told them what the situation is like here, that it might be a while before you can do much, but he'll send resources. It will be mutual." She hesitated, reaching in her pocket and pulling out a cellphone. It was an older molder, not her personal one, and she offered it to him. "If you want."

"I think you know we need all of the extra help we can get right now." Markus walked closer and accepted the phone from her outstretched hand, his fingers brushing against hers briefly. "There are several people here who will be very grateful for this."

"I'm glad I could help." She smiled. He tucked the phone into his jacket pocket.

"You could be helping more," he said offhandedly, his eyes searching her face. "Why are you still working on this investigation? What if you had been exposed for helping us? There is most certainly surveillance footage of you inside of Stratford Tower."

"Nothing happened. No one suspected anything." Taylor glanced away, trying not to think of the moment in the elevator with Connor. He hadn't brought it up again afterward. Not yet, anyway.

"You said you agreed to be a part of this because you had to know why deviants were becoming violent. Surely, you've seen enough by now," Markus persisted.

"It's more complicated than that," she protested, defensive. He leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing.

"Is it? What is so complicated? Does this have anything to do with the deviant hunter?" Taylor's mouth dropped open in surprise, and Markus arched his eyebrows in response. "I may be busy trying to run this revolution, but it's hard not to notice how close you seem to be with the one person who's mission it is to destroy my people."

"It's not like that, Markus." She said softly, the heat creeping up her neck, across her cheeks. "This has nothing to do with Connor."

"Connor, then." He was watching her now, his eyebrows lowered. As he scanned her face, she felt that familiar unsettled feeling, like he could see right through her with those mismatched eyes. "Do you have feelings for him?"

"What?" She nearly stumbled backward a step, wanting to get away from Markus's pointed stare and his accusations. How could she have feelings for Connor? She had known him for a week. He had become a friend to her in that time, as much as anyone could, but he wasn't even a deviant. He felt nothing for her.

"There are a lot of people here depending on me, Taylor." Markus leaned away, sensing her discomfort, but he didn't turn his gaze from her face. "I trust you, implicitly, but I have them to think about as well. It is hard to convince some of them that you are on our side, given the circumstances."

"I see," she responded carefully, trying to disguise the hurt on her face, turning away. "What else do I have to do to prove that I'm on your side, then?"

"It's not like that," He said. She couldn't see his face anymore, but she heard him move closer. Folding her arms across her middle, she took another step away, not wanting him to touch her. "They're scared, Taylor. Almost every android here is afraid of humans."

_I've been afraid my whole life_, she wanted to say, but she bit her tongue, knowing that it was petty and unfair. Hadn't she spent her adult life running away, an entire coast separating her from all of the things that scared her the most? "I have something else I have to do tonight."

"Please, think about it. I don't want us to be compromised, but I also don't want anything to happen to you." Markus said earnestly. He really did sound worried for her. "If you're found out, do you think you will have to answer to the Detroit Police, or to CyberLife?"

Taylor felt her heart squeeze in fear. She almost shuddered, but she made herself start walking away instead, not bothering to wait for someone to escort her out.

* * *

Snow had started to fall. Flakes were clinging to her eyelashes as she shivered on the doorstep, her finger hesitating over the doorbell. She pressed it before she could lose her nerve and waited, shivering in the cold. Her heavy coat was back at the station.

Chloe answered the door, the picture of composure. Their gazes met over the threshold, and Taylor's breath came out in a puff of white, an unconscious sigh. "I'm here to see Elijah."

"I don't believe Elijah is expecting guests," Taylor watched surreally, her face considering her, before Chloe opened the door wider, "Please come in. It is cold. I will let Elijah know you're here, but he may not receive you."

"Thank you, Chloe." She practically jumped into the foyer, letting the heat inside the house consume her, still shuddering. She couldn't wait to go home to California. It almost never snowed in Los Angeles.

Chloe retreated down the hallway, leaving her standing in silence for a few moments. When she heard footsteps a moment later, the warmth had almost reached her bones. She glanced up, expecting to see her doppelgänger android returning, but it was Elijah himself who appeared.

"Taylor! What a surprise," He was smiling as he approached, and she tried to smile back. He took her hand in his, thankfully not kissing it this time. His felt remarkably warm. "You're freezing. What brings you back?"

"I would like to talk to you about something," Taylor glanced over his shoulder, realizing that Chloe had trailed Elijah back into the room after all. She stood perfectly still by the doorway, awaiting instruction.

"Of course." He released her hand and gestured down the hall. "Please, come in. I have a fire going in the other room. I'll get you a drink. Are you hungry?"

"I'm fine," she answered, following Elijah down the hallway. Chloe fell into step behind them, trailing silently. She didn't see either of the other Chloe's anywhere as they passed rooms in the house, eventually arriving in what appeared to be a study.

There was indeed a fireplace, with a fire crackling in the hearth. Unlike the foyer, the art here looked less self-absorbed and more chosen for aesthetic. One piece she recognized as done by Carl Manfred. There were papers strewn about the desk along the right wall, but Elijah ignored them, inviting her to have a seat in one of the chairs by the fire.

Taylor accepted, watching him retrieve a glass from a tray nearby and select one of the crystal decanters. He poured her a drink and extended it toward her. She accepted, reluctantly, cradling the glass close to her chest without taking a sip.

"What would you like to talk about?" Elijah settled into the chair across from her, fixing his blue eyes on hers. Here in the study, he looked so different than he had beside the pool, talking like a megalomaniac and forcing Connor to point a gun at the android that was standing behind him.

"I'm sure you have an idea." She glanced down at the brown liquor in her glass, reconsidering. She might need it to get through this conversation.

"Hm. That's decidedly vague." He tented his fingers, his eyes crinkling in amusement. "You could be angry at me for what happened with your little android friend. You could be here because I have an android standing behind me who looks just like you. Or maybe you just want to catch up with an old friend?"

"We weren't friends," she protested, frowning at him. They sat in silence for a moment, and she considered him, glancing back at Chloe a couple of times. "I remember when I met you. I thought you were so cool, and so smart. I couldn't believe someone like you would be a fan of someone like me."

"Don't sell yourself short," Elijah said, smiling now, the amusement clear on his face. "You were charming, even back then."

"He didn't tell you?" Her voice wobbled on the last word, and she swallowed, hating herself for it. This was it, the question that had haunted her for years, the reason she had never talked to Elijah again. "He didn't tell you why he wanted to build Chloe?"

"Of course not," The amusement was gone from Elijah's face now. His jaw was tight as he looked at her. She couldn't remember a time when he had ever looked so serious.

"You worked with him all the time. You didn't know he was a monster?" She asked in disbelief.

"Believe it or not, he almost never talked about you. Or any of his family." Elijah smiled, though the amusement from earlier was still missing. "He was also quite charming in most company."

"Why did you sell CyberLife to him?" Taylor asked next, her hand clenched around her glass now, knuckles white.

"I had bigger ambitions than the endless production of androids," Elijah shrugged now, sounding bored again. "Anthony had no vision. He was motivated by greed, by how much money androids could make him. That never interested me."

She leaned back in her chair, relaxing a bit, her brow furrowing. She couldn't puzzle out what he meant exactly, but she knew Elijah well enough to know he probably would only give her more run around if she questioned his motives. Instead, she glanced up at Chloe again, who was staring straight ahead, immobile.

"What are you going to do with the Chloe's?" Taylor asked quietly. Elijah immediately perked up, interested again, his eyes focused on hers.

"I believe I've already done it. I'll keep them here." He leaned forward, smiling at her again. "What would you like me to do with them?"

"What if they become deviant?" She asked, avoiding the question, staring at Chloe.

"I suppose it would be up to them at that point." Elijah shrugged, leaning back in his chair. Taylor glanced back at him finally, raising her eyebrows. He seemed amused by her reaction. "What did you expect me to say? That I would keep them prisoner? Do you think I'm a monster, too?"

"I don't know what to think about you," she replied honestly. Elijah smiled again at this, almost looking pleased. "You did put a gun in Connor's hand and make him point it at Chloe."

"Oh, Taylor," he laughed, shaking his head at her. "I knew he wasn't going to shoot." She gave him a skeptical look, but he just shrugged, "I could see the way he kept looking at you the whole time."

* * *

Connor glanced around the lobby of the Detroit Police station uncertainly, shifting on his feet, waiting. Taylor had called him and asked him to meet her down here, but it had been nearly an hour. There was a small bit of worry, nagging in the back of his mind, growing with each passing minute that she didn't appear.

He saw her the moment she stepped through the doors, sunlight bouncing off of her blonde hair. She stopped several paces inside, her blue eyes glancing around the room, trying to find him. He hadn't seen her since they parted ways after leaving Elijah Kamski's house the day before.

She finally spotted him, her face stretching into a smile as she crossed the lobby to meet him. There was nothing in her arms, not even the usual bag that she carried with her. Her stress levels were already reading higher than normal. She pulled to a stop in front of him, looking slightly breathless.

"Hey. Thanks for meeting me."

"Is something wrong?" Connor tilted his head as he considered her again. She'd pulled her blonde hair back into a messy ponytail, but it looked like she may have just rolled out of bed. There were dark smudges under her eyes again, like when she hadn't been sleeping. That nag of worry was quickly growing.

"No, I'm okay. I just needed to talk to you." Taylor glanced around the lobby again, like she expected to see someone else there, or someone to be watching them. She reached out and took his hand, pulling him with her through the staff entrance, toward the quiet hallways in the back.

When they were alone, she turned back to him and released his hand. She looked momentarily nervous, but she seemed to steel herself, taking a deep breath in through her nose. He'd watched her do it many times before. "Taylor—"

"I'm no longer on the case." Her blue eyes focused on his brown, and she delivered the phrase with a detached calm. Clearly, she'd already reconciled with this fact, but he knew his LED was flickering red, processing. She seemed to hesitate at this, "I wanted to tell you first."

"What do you mean?" He managed after a few moments, still trying to figure out some alternate meaning than the obvious one she was presenting him with. "You can't be off the case. We need you."

Taylor smiled at that, fleeting and a little sad. She reached up and removed the lanyard from around her neck, the one with her DPD identification attached, her hair falling over her right shoulder. She pressed it into his left hand, closing his fingers around it.

"Can you give that to the Captain for me?" His fingers tightened reflexively, and she released him again, though she didn't step back. She stood just a few inches away, her face tilted up toward his, watching him carefully.

"I just wanted to say thank you," she finally said, when he didn't respond. "I'm really glad that I met you. I'm really happy we became friends."

Taylor paused again, waiting for him to say something. He knew his LED was still flickering red. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to undo this, to make her stay here, to help them solve the case.

She considered him for another few moments, and then her fingers reached up, brushing against his cheek. The small distance between them shrunk to nothing as Taylor leaned closer. He didn't have time to think of what was happening before she pressed her lips softly against his.

Every thought, everything he had just been worried about fluttered out of his head, like so many birds. His insides felt like they were crackling, like he'd touched a live wire and had sparks crawling through him. Taylor leaned closer still, pressing her mouth more firmly against his, his thirium pump accelerating in response.

And just as quickly, she pulled away. Her eyes, which she'd briefly closed, fluttered back open, and she smiled sadly at him, "Goodbye, Connor."

She turned, walking back down the hallway and away from him. Squaring her shoulders, she didn't turn around, didn't look back once. As she disappeared around the corner, the reverie around him broke. Connor looked down, his left hand clenched into a fist around Taylor's badge, his right hand raised, outstretched, into the spot where she'd been standing moments before.


	22. Hello

**Evanescence - Hello**

Taylor sat at her mother's vanity, brushing out her wet hair. The house was deathly still around her, but it had been for years. Her mother had fired a gunshot and blanketed it with silence ever since. For her, the house had been silent since she was nine years old.

No one would look for her here, at least not at first. She had booked a hotel yesterday and moved everything she brought to Detroit there. By thae time anyone thought to look for her, they would check there before they came here. She didn't plan on being here when that happened.

She knew Markus was probably marching in Detroit right now. He'd told her that she couldn't come. She'd dropped off two androids with one of her contacts at the edge of the city. That's why she'd come back to this house, because there was still an old car in the garage that wasn't self-driving that belonged to her mother.

Her eyes kept glancing at the bed in the mirror. It wasn't the same bed her mother had died on. That would have been macabre, and anyway that bed hadn't been salvageable. No, just some ostentatious four-poster in place for the sake of having furniture in the master suite.

She could still picture her mother's corpse stretched across it either way, the gun curled in her perfectly manicured fingers, brain and skull fragments splattered over the white silk sheets.

Taylor placed the brush down on the vanity, staring at her face in the mirror, at her mother's eyes looking back at her. She wondered if it would be easier to sleep here, in this room, than in her own room. Would the night terrors find her no matter where she slept, slipping over her like water, drowning her?

She would sell it, she decided. She'd held on to the house for years, clinging to it, a festering and jagged wound that refused to heal. If she could burn it to the ground, she would. She considered donating it to charity, but she couldn't imagine it as a shelter, or anyone coming here seeking safety.

She'd left her phone at the hotel, switched off. There was no cable service at this house, no internet. She was at a total disconnect from the wider world right now, and she found it both terrifying and wildly freeing. She had no idea, however, how Markus was faring at the moment.

Eventually, she made her way back to Jericho. The sun was just starting to set, the cold already setting in. She took the car, a classic red Corvette that had once belonged to her father. Her mother had kept it, for sentimental reasons, even after she remarried. She never talked about it, never drove it herself, but had never once considered selling it.

Taylor supposed they were alike in some ways.

As she pulled up near the docks, she began to feel uneasy. Like her house, the docks felt unusually quiet as she closed the car door and slid the keys in her coat pocket. Pausing, she ducked back into the cab and took her gun out of the glovebox. Despite her apprehension, she picked up her pace as she made her way onto the freighter.

The peaceful exterior of the ship was a mask for the chaos of the interior. Everyone inside was in motion, and it took her a long time to make her way through the pulsing crowd of slightly panicked deviants toward the hold. No one she attempted to stop could give her a straight answer on what was happening.

A huge weight shifted from her when she finally caught sight of Markus, in his usual spot overlooking the hold. It was another few moments before she could make her way up the stairs to where he was. When he finally turned and caught sight of her, she couldn't stop herself from crossing the remaining distance and throwing her arms around him.

Her senses returned to her a beat later and she pulled away again. He was looking at her with puzzled surprise, and she felt herself flush. "Sorry, I just... everyone looked panicked when I got here. I thought something had happened to you."

"It's okay," Markus placed his hand on her arm, his face relaxing into a smile. "I'm fine. Did everything go well with you?"

"Yeah. No problems," Taylor waved him off impatiently. "Tell me what happened today. You know, with the protest?"

Markus appeared amused by her eagerness, but he inclined his head for her to sit as he recounted the events of the day. His face was somber as he told her of the swat team opening fire, of the androids who had died while they fled.

They sat next to each other in silence for a while, Taylor tapping her fingers steadily on her knee, thinking. When she looked over at Markus again, he had his elbows propped on his knees as he slouched forward, his brows drawn down in concentration. "What if we can't do this?"

"You can." Taylor rested her hand on his arm. "I've never believed anything more. No matter how this ends, people are paying attention. People are listening. You're making a difference."

"I don't imagine that will be much comfort to the people who are dying right now," Markus said quietly, his eyes moving out across the hold, to the androids who had grown in number even that day. Her fingers tightened gently on his arm, squeezing, trying to offer any sort of comfort.

"No," she agreed. "I suppose not." She bit her lip, staring down at her shoes. "I'm not any use to you like this. I can't help, I can't even tell you what people are saying. I'd be more useful outside of Jericho."

"And you wouldn't be safe." He said firmly, shaking his head. "Anything could happen to you by yourself in some hotel room. Do you have any regard for your own safety?"

"But I could be doing something," she protested.

"You have done something. Out there you could be getting arrested." They glared at each other for a few seconds, but it wasn't long before guilt started gnawing at her. She backed down, glancing away.

"You look exhausted." He said after another few minutes passed in reverent silence, only the bustle of the hold around them, letting the moment of tension go. "Did you sleep at all last night?"

"Not much." Taylor admitted. After she'd left Kamski's it had already been late. She'd spent a few hours pacing the hotel, deciding what she was going to do, and the couple hours she'd managed had been fitful.

"You should find somewhere quiet and get some rest. I'm going to round up North, Simon, and Josh and figure out what we're going to do next." He stood, and she did the same, smiling up at him.

"I'm not sure 'somewhere quiet' is doable at the moment, but I'll try." He smiled. She hesitated before pulling him into another hug. "Thank you, Markus. I'm glad you're okay."

* * *

She didn't know how many hours had passed when she woke up to screaming. Disoriented, she thought at first that maybe she was the one screaming. She'd been having a nightmare, a recurrent one where she was drowning and each time she almost broke the surface, a hand closed over her face and shoved her back down.

There was a cry in her throat when she rolled over, staring at the rusted wall of the freighter. She had tucked away in a tiny room away from everyone and fallen asleep stretched out on her coat. There were no beds, none of the androids needed to sleep after all, so she'd curled into a ball on her side and made do with her exhaustion.

As Taylor blinked herself back into reality, staring into the darkness that surrounded her, she heard the screaming continue, and the unmistakable sound of gunshots. Her heart starting to pound as she sat up, listening.

There were people running outside of the door. Had they found Jericho? She glanced down, to the handgun she had placed off to the side. The one thing she hadn't left behind in the hotel. She had tucked it into her coat pocket when the anxiety had struck on the docks, not wanting to leave it in the car.

Now she stuck it in the waistband of her jeans as she stood, making sure the safety was on. She was both grateful and slightly terrified as she pulled the door open a crack and saw the androids running through the halls of the freighter. Every now and then, she caught sight of men in what appeared to be full riot gear, assault rifles and all.

_Shit_. Taylor backtracked to slide her jacket on. She had to find Markus as quickly as possible and try to get him out of here alive, if she could. Somehow. She let out another silent stream of curses as she slid out into the hallway, right into the fray.

Making her way through the tight quarters, androids bumping into her at every turn, she tried to head toward the upper decks. She had no idea how long she'd been asleep, but Markus had been planning on meeting with North, Simon, and Josh. There had been dozens of deviants in the hold and it would have been impossible to talk there.

She stumbled and almost hit the floor, ducking as the sound of automatic gunfire ricocheted above her head. More screams echoed in her ears. Scrambling, she tucked herself into a doorway, hearing the bullets still pinging off the metal walls.

After a few moments, she continued making her way up. Her luck ran out as she rounded the corner, colliding into another person, the sounds of gunfire already echoing in the hall. Her hand found the handle of the gun, and she raised it as she backed away a step, ready to fire.

All of the air left her lungs. For a fraction of a second, she almost didn't recognize him, beanie pulled down over his brown hair, CyberLife suit gone. But his brown eyes were unmistakable, and they locked with hers instantly, widening in shock.

As quickly as time slowed, it sped up again. She kept the gun trained forward, shouting, "Connor, move!"

He didn't hesitate, just threw himself aside. The soldier was raising his gun, not bothering to register that she was human. She squeezed the trigger once, twice. Inhaled. The sound of metal clattering filled the hallway as the soldier dropped the rifle, then the thud of his weight as his whole body followed. Taylor lowered her arms, her eyes stuck on the soldier, the puddle of blood blossoming from under him.

"Taylor?" Connor moved to block her view. He placed his hands on her upper arms and pulled her to the side, out of the hallway in case any more soldiers came along. His chocolate brown eyes scanned her pale face, her hands still clenched on the gun, knuckles white.

Gently, slowly, he placed his fingers over hers. She flinched, a shudder crawling down her spine, her blue eyes wide and fixed. "What are you doing here? Where have you been?"

"What are_ you_ doing here?" She asked, finally looking away from the dying soldier and trying to keep the tremor from her voice. She took a step back from him but couldn't bring herself to raise the gun. Not at Connor. "Are you with them? Did you bring them to Jericho?"

"I didn't mean to. They followed me." His face was a mask of guilt. She wasn't sure whether she should believe him or not. His mouth pinched into a frown, eyebrows furrowing. "Taylor, I'm a deviant now."

She stared at him, dumbstruck. Now that he'd said it, though, she could see that there was something different about him, something more than the clothes she had noticed initially. There was real desperation in his face as he pleaded with her to believe him. Emotion in his eyes, lining his brow.

"Markus went to blow up the hold," he said after a moment's hesitation where she didn't, couldn't respond. His hands tightened on her arms and he pulled her toward the door. "We have to go."

"Wait, you saw Markus?" Taylor allowed him to tug her into a run. Connor didn't bother to answer, just continued to haul her along, navigating them through the hallways and away from the soldiers.

They turned another corner, meeting back up with Markus and North. The brief moment of excitement was quickly smashed as more gunshots sounded from down the hall. North cried out as one of the bullets struck her in the leg. Markus immediately ran forward, picking up a piece of metal that he proceeded to use as a shield, deflecting bullets.

He covered North, protecting her from the gunfire, as Connor rushed the soldiers. In a series of movements that was almost too fast for her eyes to follow, he subdued the group of them. The reprieve lasted for a few seconds before more soldiers came down the long hallway, opening fire.

"Run! Come on!" Markus placed North's arm around his shoulders and practically carried her away. There was a hole in the side of the freighter just ahead, leading out into the cold night air. Bullets were flying all around them. Markus didn't hesitate to leap out into the water with North.

Taylor pulled up short, her chest heaving, staring down at the churning water below, the icy cold air hitting her face. Connor almost barreled into her at full speed but managed to stop just short. He glanced between her and the water, then behind them at the soldiers closing in.

"We have to jump," he told her, though she already knew that. She couldn't make her feet move. She was remembering her nightmare, drowning in the freezing cold water, wondering if the hypothermia would kill her first.

Connor placed his arms around her and lifted her off her feet, as easily as if she weighed nothing. He jumped, somehow, even while she was twisting in his hold. She screamed the whole way down, clinging to him, until the water swallowed them both.


	23. Empty Chairs at Empty Tables

**Les Misérables – Empty Chairs at Empty Tables**

Connor tightened his hold on Taylor as she shifted in his arms, and then relaxed as she resettled, falling back into sleep. They were tucked into the quietest part of the church he could find, away from the survivors of Jericho, alone.

When he had pulled the blonde out of the water hours ago, shivering, lips blue, he had worried that she might shake apart. He'd considered the risk of hypothermia and had wanted to take her to get medical attention. She'd refused outright.

Markus had brought her dry clothes, an android uniform of all things, and started a fire. When he'd tried to help her out of her soaking wet clothes, she'd started to panic even more. He'd let her do it alone, turning away, not knowing how to help her.

Then he'd led her closer to the flames, still shivering, teeth chattering, wet hair clinging to her face. He'd sat her down, and settled next to her, watching her shake. Fragile. Human.

And she'd scooted closer, drawn to his warmth. He couldn't say exactly when she'd moved from pressed against his side to curled into his lap, still desperately cold. He hadn't protested, had placed his arms around her, lending her every bit of warmth that he could.

Eventually she did stop shaking, her skin going from icy cold to the same temperature as his. Her breathing slowed with it, and she'd fallen asleep against him.

Now Connor felt her shift again, wondering if she was finally coming to. His arms tightened, one curled around the middle of her back, the other parallel with her thigh, his hand resting lightly against her hip.

Her head was tucked against his shoulder. Every slow exhale, he could feel her breath tickling against his neck, could feel every steady beat of her heart against his chest. She shifted again, and Connor knew she was waking up.

Taylor sucked in a breath and squeezed her eyes shut hard before she blinked them open. Her left arm was curled around his neck, and he felt her fingers tighten before she suddenly pulled away, her face bewildered.

"Connor? What...?" She looked down, realizing all at once that she was fully sitting in his lap. Scarlet covered her face almost instantly, like someone had lit a match under her skin. She scrambled away from him, and he released her, feeling the absence immediately.

"You were cold," he explained calmly, watching her rub her hands over her face. She groaned at this but didn't say anything. He added, mostly to try and ease her embarrassment, "You were also in shock."

She peered at him through her fingers, face still red. He couldn't help the smirk that quirked his lips. She groaned a second time, hiding her face once more.

After a few minutes, when she had calmed enough to show her face, she glanced around them. "Where are we? Where's Markus?"

"The survivors from Jericho have all come here. It's an abandoned church outside of Detroit. Markus left shortly after we arrived. He said he had something to take care of." Connor watched Taylor lower her hands to her lap. She stood and walked toward the doorway that led into the main area of the church, where the Jericho survivors were.

She placed a hand over her mouth as she counted them, her eyes filling with sadness. He stood up and joined her but couldn't bring himself to say anything in comfort. "It was my fault."

Taylor turned, her blue eyes on his, uncertain. "You said they followed you."

"It was a setup," he conceded, glancing toward the floor. "CyberLife must have planned this from the start. They were using me."

"You can't blame yourself for that." She said softly, stepping closer to him. "Connor, you were following orders."

Connor frowned, then looked up into her eyes again. "You helped Markus break into Stratford Tower."

"I did." She nodded, uneasy.

"You lied." Her eyes flickered away from his face for a moment, and back.

"I didn't lie. Not really." She argued stubbornly. Biting her lip, she added, "I tried not to lie to you the whole time. Besides, didn't you tell me you could tell when humans lie?"

There was a note of challenge in her voice as she met his gaze, leaning in. He supposed she had never lied outright so much as avoided the truth. It was a moot point now that he was deviant, so he conceded it.

No, he was more concerned with how close Taylor had leaned, without even realizing it. His mind was on the last time she had leaned so close to his face, when she had kissed him and then left him standing alone in a hallway. He had stood there, reeling, trying to figure out why she had done it.

Now she was studying his face, eyes scrunched in amusement. She couldn't see his LED because he was still wearing the beanie, couldn't see the flickering yellow as she reached out her left hand to touch the lapel of his coat.

"Where did you get these clothes?" He could hear the laughter in her voice as she glanced over him. "And this beanie? What a waste of all that gorgeous hair."

Her right hand reached up for the edge of the hat, but he caught her arm in midair, his fingers closing gently around her wrist. "Why did you kiss me?"

She froze in his hold, the mirth fading from her face. He could feel her pulse quickening under his fingertips, her eyes searching his expression. She swallowed, her stress levels spiking, but didn't try to pull away.

"I wasn't sure I'd ever see you again." She said quietly. He considered this, his head tilting slightly, processing. The phone call, her showing up to hand him that badge that didn't need to be returned, their brief meeting. His eyes narrowed.

"Why did you _kiss _me?" Connor asked again, his voice low, leaning in closer. Taylor shifted, her heartrate kicking up even faster. She opened her mouth again, closed it.

"I wanted to." She finally whispered. He released her then, his hand leaving her arm, fingers tracing along her jaw. As he leaned in more, closing the distance, he hesitated, brown eyes studying her face uncertainly.

"Can I kiss you?" Her fingers tightened around the fabric of his shirt and she pulled him into her, closing the rest of the gap herself. Their lips crashed together so suddenly that Connor thought maybe he had malfunctioned, his thirium pump stuttering before restarting at hundred miles an hour.

Taylor slid her arms around his neck, pulling him closer still, her body pressing flush against his. He slid his arm around her waist, his other hand tangling into her hair. He ran his tongue gently along her bottom lip, and she parted them, her own tongue darting out to meet his.

Connor knew, as an android, he didn't feel hot and cold, but it felt like heat crawling under his skin now, setting his entire body aflame. As Taylor's mouth moved against his, he could feel his fans whirring at full speed, his thirium pump working in overdrive like he was overheating. She had worked her fingers under his beanie and dislodged it, curling her fingers into his hair.

The sound of Markus clearing his throat behind them made the two jump apart as though scalded. Connor was still looking at the blonde in his arms, her blue eyes dilated, chest heaving as she gasped for air, face flushed.

He wanted to pull her closer, kiss her again. It took every ounce of willpower he had to move his gaze over her head, to where Markus was watching the two of them, looking somewhere between embarrassed and amused.

"You're back," he observed as Taylor attempted to pull away from him. His fingers tightened on her waist briefly, but he blinked several times as Markus's face stretched into a smile and he released her as she twisted away from him a second time.

"I came to check on Taylor," Markus said, still smiling, decidedly amused now as he glanced between them.

"I'm fine." The blonde answered, fixing her hair nervously. "Connor said you left, is everything alright?"

"I had to take care of something personal." He responded, his smile fading. "I'm not sure if I would say everything is alright after what happened."

"Markus, I'm so sorry," Taylor stepped forward and took his hand, squeezing. Markus looked surprised for a moment, but he squeezed her hand back as she asked, "Do you know how many...?"

Markus shook his head, pursing his lips.

"It's my fault the humans located Jericho." Connor heard himself say for the second time. They both turned in unison to look at him, still holding hands. "I'm sorry, Markus. I can understand if you decide not to trust me."

Taylor released Markus's hand, finally, and he felt the uncomfortable emotion that had been pressing down on him ease somewhat. He'd been through too many emotions, all of them new, in the past several moments to sort through any of it. He'd only been experiencing real emotions for several hours after all.

Markus considered him for a moment, while Taylor glanced back and forth between the two of them, looking like she wanted to say something first but was holding back, "You're one of us now," he said after a pause. "Your place is with your people."

Taylor smiled, her whole face brightening. She hugged Markus in her excitement and then came back to hug Connor as well. Connor placed his arms around her again, holding on for just a second longer, taking in the feel of her.

Markus was turning to go when he said, "There are thousands of androids at the CyberLife assembly plant. If we could wake them up, they might join us and shift the balance of power."

"You want to infiltrate the CyberLife tower?" Markus asked, turning back, his face distorted with shock. Taylor had jerked away from him, but her expression was closer to fear. "Connor, that's suicide."

"They trust me, they'll let me in. If anyone has a chance of infiltrating CyberLife, it's me." Connor retorted, trying to make it sound reasonable. He kept his gaze leveled on Markus, ignoring the guilt gnawing at him from the look that Taylor had given him.

"They'll kill you," she said softly, drawing his eyes back down to her face. She had worked to bring herself back to a neutral expression, but the edges of her mouth were still drawn down slightly, a small line notched in between her eyebrows.

"There's a high probability," he conceded, "but statistically speaking, there's always a chance for unlikely events to take place."

She stared at him in silence for a moment, and he found another new emotion bubbling up in him. Unsure, he thought it might be apprehension. He wanted her to say something, anything.

"Just," she began finally, then hesitated. Her blue eyes darted away from his face and she drew in a shaky breath. "Just come back, okay?"

"I will." He said softly, brushing his fingers against hers, entwining their fingers and squeezing her hand. She squeezed his hand back once before pulling hers away and turning toward Markus.

"I'm going back to the city."

"What? Why?" Markus, who had been standing quietly and trying not to intrude on what felt like their private moment, sputtered. "Did both of you go insane?"

"We've had this conversation. I'm useless here." Taylor sucked a breath in through her nose. "I'm useless without a phone in my hand. If we're doing this, then I'm going to make sure everyone will be watching."

"When we had the conversation before, we agreed that was too dangerous," Markus protested, frowning.

"You did, I didn't. It's a little late to be worried about how much danger is involved. We're all in danger." Taylor glanced over her shoulder at him for just a second, and Connor felt the objection he was about to raise die in his throat. "My personal level of danger is comparatively low I would say."

"Taylor—" Markus began again, but she just shook her head as she moved past him to gather up her clothes.

"I'll come back." She said matter-of-factly, throwing her coat over her arm and digging into the pocket. A moment later, she withdrew her hand with a ring of car keys clenched in her fist. "Or I'll meet you there."

Connor watched her leave, again, without looking back.


	24. Haunted

**Evanescence - Haunted**

Taylor tapped her key against the lock and stepped into the heat of her hotel room, still shivering. Even after changing out of the android outfit and into her clothes, the snow seemed to be clinging to more than just the fabric of her coat, down to her very bones.

The silence of the room enveloped her like a crypt. An automatic light flickered on as she stepped toward the bedroom, and the light stream followed like spotlights as she went straight for the cellphone left sitting on hotel pillow, off.

Her finger hovered over the power button. She stared at her reflection in the blackened screen, knowing that she needed to move with urgency now. Twenty-four hours without the device in her hand had felt strange, but now she almost didn't want it back.

Sighing, she powered the cellphone on. It came to life instantly in her palm, vibrating, an angry wasp, notification after notification lighting the screen. She groaned at the number of missed calls and texts that she had.

Ignoring all of them, Taylor unlocked the phone and opened her contacts, dialing her best friend. The phone rang twice before the line clicked on. "Taylor?"

"Hey," she didn't miss the frantic tone in her best friend's voice, so she held the phone away from her ear a couple of inches and braced for impact.

"Where the hell are you?" Rachel didn't yell. Taylor had to press the phone back to her ear to hear her properly. Her voice seemed to get lower with every word as she continued, "Did you listen to anything I told you the last time I saw you?"

"Rachel, I'm—"

"Don't." Rachel snapped on the other end of the line. "Don't you dare say that you're sorry. You're not sorry. You knew exactly what you were doing. You're reckless. You don't care about hurting me, or Alex, or Jake, or anyone else who gives a shit about you."

"I'm in my hotel room." Taylor spoke quietly into the phone, listening to Rachel huffing on the other side of the line. "I left because I had to help Markus, the leader of the android revolution. He came to me a couple of days after I got to Detroit and I've been helping him ever since. I was worried if I kept working with CyberLife and the police that I might jeopardize everything. That's why I disappeared."

Rachel didn't say anything. Taylor started tugging on a loose thread on the lapel of her coat, twisting it around her finger. "You were right, before, about L.A. too. I just can't give you any details. I'm not trying to keep you guys out, but this is really important to me."

"So important that you couldn't say anything. I don't want to know how much danger you've put yourself in. I thought the biggest thing I had to worry about was Anthony Jacobsen." Rachel sighed. "You roped me into this, you know. I helped you get access to the tower not knowing I was really helping the deviant leader broadcast that message. If anyone finds out about that, I might never find work as a journalist again."

"You've done worse for stories," Taylor said defensively.

"By choice! My own choice!" Rachel screamed, making her wince. The guilt started to claw its way through her chest, rising in her throat, tears stinging at her eyes. "Who knows, maybe I would have agreed to this if you'd just told me the truth. We'll never know now."

"I know." She exhaled through her nose, nostrils flaring. It wasn't fair for her to cry, not now. "I'm a shitty friend. I know."

"So what do you want from me now, Taylor?" Taylor's fingers tightened around the phone. _Nothing_, she wanted to say. How could she ask for anything more? She squeezed her eyes shut and remembered she wasn't doing this for herself.

She thought of Markus, and Connor, and all of the androids that had died when Jericho went down. Maybe nothing she did mattered. Maybe this wouldn't either. Maybe everyone was right when they said she was just a stupid celebrity in front of a camera. But she couldn't give up now.

"Remember that exclusive I promised you...?" And she explained everything about Markus, about Jericho, about what had happened that night and what was about to happen. Rachel stayed silent the whole time, and for several minutes after while the story sank in.

"I think I'm more upset than I was a few minutes ago. You really do have a death wish." Rachel said quietly. "What exactly do you want me to do?"

"I want coverage, Rachel."

"Coverage?" She responded in disbelief. "Taylor—"

"I just need you on standby. I want you to call everyone you know, every network, anyone you can convince. I want everyone to be watching." Rachel was quiet again, for a beat.

"What do you think is going to happen?" Taylor went quiet for a moment this time.

"I'm not sure yet. But whatever happens needs to be heard."

* * *

Taylor was rubbing a towel through her freshly washed hair, reveling in how wonderful a shower was after sleeping in a rusted-out freighter and then an abandoned church. The steam was still curling out of the bathroom as she settled onto the bed and picked her phone up again. She was still sorting through her messages from her brief respite.

Some of them were from Jake, increasing in their frantic tone as Alex had continued to call and check to see if she'd shown up at his house. She had texted her brother before stepping into the shower to let him know she was fine.

The bulk of the rest were missed calls and texts from Alex. They shifted in tone from annoyance, to anger, to forgiveness, back to anger, to desperation. She had also texted him to let him know she was okay, that everything was fine, and to beg him not to call. She knew that was probably a lost cause, but as she scrolled through her phone now, she saw that he hadn't responded.

Before she could consider this for long, Taylor heard what sounded like a rattling at the door. Placing the towel on the bed, she pulled the camisole over her head that had been resting beside her, next to a teal sweater. Hesitating, she picked up her phone again as she headed out of the bedroom, wondering if perhaps someone from the cleaning staff was here.

Moving back into the open living area of the suite, she realized the automatic lights were already on. The door to the room was just closing again, clicking softly, as the person who had just entered turned around to face her.

Taylor almost dropped the phone, felt it sliding through her fingers and had to scramble to regain her grip so that it didn't clatter into the carpet. All of the air squeezed out of her lungs and she felt like she was reliving the moment at the Eden Club, when she'd been knocked into the concrete and had the wind forcibly knocked out of her.

Anthony Jacobsen spotted her and smiled. The lines around his eyes crinkled pleasantly, she could see the gray that was starting to work its way through his thick brown hair. She couldn't recall a time, even as a child, she'd ever seen him walking around without a suit on. He was wearing one now, tailored and black with an offsetting green tie that matched his eyes.

"Taylor." Her first thought was to reach for her gun. After all, she had bought it, learned to shoot it, thought in some small part of her brain that if she was ever standing here like this that she could shoot him. But she had lost the gun when Connor had grabbed her and jumped from Jericho, and it was somewhere underwater in the wreckage.

"H-How—" She couldn't force out the whole question. Her mind was still spinning, a veritable top inside her skull. Never again. She had promised herself she would never be alone with this man again.

"I own this hotel." He said, still smiling, though it was morphing into something monstrous and feral in her eyes. He shrugged, nonchalant. "I simply told them that my stepdaughter was staying in this room and that I would love to surprise her with a visit."

"I'm not your stepdaughter." She gritted her teeth, trying to breathe, to take deeper breaths, but it was like there was a steel band around her chest, tightening. He feigned a look of surprise as he took a step closer to her. She wanted to step back, away, or to run forward and around him out of the room. Anywhere but here, but none of her muscles would move, frozen in panic.

"Hm. Well, here I am, nonetheless. We didn't get to finish our conversation the other night. You left quite abruptly." He stepped closer again, closing the distance between them. Taylor raised her phone like it was a barrier, but still couldn't make her legs move. "You were such a polite girl once."

"What do you want?" She flexed her fingers. She could call the cops, maybe. Her hands were shaking, and she absently wondered if it wasn't all of her, shivering like a leaf in a storm while he smiled down at her.

The phone, blessedly, was already unlocked, but as she tried to touch the phone icon, her trembling knuckle hit on a social media app instead. She couldn't look down, she kept her blue eyes on his face, but she had another idea. And as he opened his mouth to answer her, her knuckle tapped against the key to go live.

"We need to talk about you, running your mouth about these deviants." Her heart started pounding in her ears. Wasn't Rachel just warning her about this? Sweat started building on her palms and she tightened her hold on her phone again, knowing if she dropped it now, it was all over.

"I-I don't know what you mean." It was almost a whisper. Fear had wrapped around her throat and was trying to choke the life out of her. She was scraping every bit of bravery she had together, trying not to fall to pieces.

"Androids deserve rights? Deviants are people? That thing you haven't shut up about for over six months? Don't play coy now, Taylor, you've never been good at it." His winning smile had faded now as he considered her, a hint of anger starting to creep into his expression. "Deviants are just machines that have malfunctioned."

"Then why are you afraid of what I'm saying?" She countered, trying to steady her voice. She thought back to her interview with Michael Brinkley, to every interview before that where she'd been undermined, and tried to pretend like this was just another debate.

"Because you're making too much noise." He snapped, stepping even closer, his nostrils flaring. The small bit of courage she had built up snuffed out like a candle and she shuddered, just inches between them now. "People are sheep, willing to believe whatever nonsense fairytale you feed them. And you, with your millions and millions of followers, just happen to have the biggest spoon."

"Did you just come here to bully me into silence?" Taylor leaned away, still unable to make her feet move. Anthony just smirked as he observed her, not bothering to comment.

"Be reasonable, Taylor. You tried to ruin my career once before. I was very tolerant. I accepted it. I smoothed everything over. For over a decade you've lived in California and I haven't tried to retaliate once for what you did to me."

"What _I_ did to _you_?" She repeated incredulously, her fear momentarily forgotten in the haze of disbelief. His hand lashed out suddenly, fingers clutching onto her wrist, and she dropped the phone. Panicked, she looked down without thinking, but the screen was facing the floor. She tried to pull her arm away, but he tightened his grip.

"You will retract your statements on deviants." Taylor kept tugging her arm fiercely, but Anthony held her firmly. In his grip, she could tell she was shaking. "I'm trying to keep this congenial."

"I won't." He pushed her backwards. She felt her back connect with the wall, just a couple of steps behind her. Hand closing over her other arm, he pinned her effortlessly and leaned in.

"I'm not asking again. If you won't do this, Taylor, I will use other means. I'm sure you're familiar with the Chloe model." She finally stopped struggling, staring up at him in horror.

"Elijah has them," she said quietly, unsure what else to say. She knew he would do it. There was no doubt in her mind. The only real question was what he would do with her in the meantime.

"Yes, he has the originals." He smiled indulgently at her, "I have an entire plant capable of android production. The originals were flawed. They were based on projections of what you would look like as an adult." He released one of her arms, brushing his fingers along her jaw, tracing his thumb along her bottom lip. "Don't be a fool. Just say yes."

"No." His face contorted with rage. His hand tightened around her throat, squeezing, cutting off the small gasps of air she had been taking. He released her other arm, tightening both hands on her throat. Her vision tunneled, she reached up, clawing at his hands, his arms, his face. Darkness started to creep into the edges of her vision. She stopped fighting.

"Detroit Police! Open up!" Anthony's grip on her throat loosened. For an instant, she saw something come across his face that she had never seen before, could never have imagined: fear. The pounding that she thought was her heart turned out to be a fist on the door. Panic was on her stepfather's face, and before he could formulate what to do, the door collapsed inward, bouncing off the opposite wall as one of the officers kicked it in.

"Don't move!" He finally released her. Taylor collapsed to the floor, her legs like putty beneath her, coughing and gasping. The officer yelled something else, but it was like she was under water now. There was just white noise in the background.

She curled back into the wall, shivering. Her still damp hair was clinging to her neck and shoulders, but she buried her fingers in it and tried to become as small as possible. Even as she tried to regain control of her breathing, she was starting to feel lightheaded from the hyperventilating.

"Hey," Taylor recoiled from the hand that touched her arm, but she lifted her head, staring into the familiar grey eyes of Gavin Reed. She scrambled backwards farther, away from him. Gavin looked startled; his hand still outstretched. He had crouched down in front of her, but now looked uncertain.

"He's gone." He told her as she looked around the room frantically, her chest heaving. "He's already in a squad car downstairs." Finally dropping his hand, he continued to stare at her, unsure what to say next. In his other hand was her cellphone, the screen black now. "There's an ambulance on the way."

"I don't need it," she heard herself say, voice hoarse, barely over a whisper.

"Tch," Gavin scowled at her. "Don't be stupid."

"I'm not stupid." She said quietly. Closing her eyes, she focused on slowing her breathing down. Her chest was tight. She was starting to feel dizzy.

"Then stop acting like it," He offered his hand to her again. She stared at it for a moment, then glanced at his face, his lips pinched into a frown. This time she reached out and grasped it, her smooth hand sliding against his callused one. He stood, pulling her to her feet as well, and released her just as quickly, offering her the phone he was still holding.

She accepted it, her hands still trembling. Ashamed, she tucked them back against her sides. Gavin seemed to notice as well, but he didn't comment. "If you don't get checked out by the EMTs, Hank and that plastic asshole won't let me hear the end of it."

Taylor raised her eyebrows at him. They stared each other down for a minute before she decided she probably wouldn't win this argument. "Alright. Let me get my coat."

She met Gavin back by the door of the hotel room a few minutes later, sliding her black trench coat on over the teal sweater she had picked out earlier. They stood a few feet apart in the elevator, riding down in silence, until Gavin suddenly spoke up.

"Sorry, uh, for the things I said to you. You know, before." He was positively stumbling over the words, like each one caused him physical pain. Taylor stared at him in disbelief, and when he noticed her expression, he scowled again.

"Apology accepted," she said quickly, before he changed his mind. A small smile quirked the side of her mouth, and she added, "Thanks. You should try being nice more often. It suits you."

"Piss off," he grumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets and turning away from her. Her smile grew, but she didn't say anything else as they arrived in the lobby of the hotel. Gavin led her toward the door, where she could already see the flashing lights through the glass panels.

To her surprise, Gavin stayed with her while the paramedic looked her over and cleared her, saying she would have some bruising. He then offered to drive her back to the station to make a statement. "Can it wait? I don't think I'm up to it."

It was the truth, but only a partial truth. She was already thinking back to Markus and the others, about how long she'd been gone already and how much she still had to do. She was implying she intended to go to sleep and try to forget what just happened, and maybe Gavin would let her off.

"Alright, but you should come in tomorrow." He conceded rather easily, though he looked somewhat skeptical. Still, he was trying to be nice to her, so he didn't push it. "You have someplace to stay?"

"I'll go to my brother's," Taylor answered without missing a beat. "Jakob lives here in the city. He won't mind putting me up for a night or two. He's probably already heard about what happened anyway."

"Fine," he was about to turn away, but he hesitated again. "Do you need a ride?"

She smiled that time, unable to contain it. The slightly awkward look on his face was almost endearing, and had she really been going to her brother's house, she might have accepted his offer, if just to watch Gavin trying to be nice for a little while longer.

"I can make it. Thank you, Gavin."


	25. Do You Hear The People Sing?

**Les Misérables – Do You Hear the People Sing?**

Taylor slid out of the backseat of the taxi, into the cold night air of Detroit. Markus had thankfully answered when she called the number of the phone she had given him days ago. They were marching on Hart Plaza; she was meeting them there. She had already called Rachel. There had been no word from Connor yet.

She walked down the sidewalk, toward the plaza, where she could see clusters of people gathered. A helicopter was hovering over the scene, which meant that Markus must already be here. Of course, she was late.

The crowds turned out to be mostly press, local news stations and national alike. There was a barrier separating them from the scene, and when she looked across the way she could see that Markus and his followers had set up a barricade across from the encampment that was holding the deviants captive.

She clung to the edge of the crowd, hoping not to be recognized as she tried to make her way to the front. Somehow, she had to get to the barricade, to Markus, but she didn't think the officers standing guard at the barriers were going to just let her walk past.

Sliding her phone out of her pocket, she hit redial on the number that would connect her to Markus, hoping he still had the phone. Her luck had run out, however, because the number rang straight to voicemail. Cursing, she ended the call.

"Taylor!" She recognized the voice instantly and turned to greet Rachel as she pushed her way through the crowd. Unfortunately, the shout had drawn the attention she had been trying to avoid. Some of the reporters were eyeing her with interest now, but Rachel ignored them. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"What do you mean? Where else would I be," Taylor frowned as Rachel scowled at her.

"Don't act like I don't know what happened to you earlier. You shouldn't be here. I would've handled this," She reached a hand toward her and then hesitated, drawing it back, afraid to touch her.

"I have to get across," Taylor said, brushing it off, determined.

"Yeah, I'd like to be on that side too, but there's a few people with guns in the way." Rachel replied, dropping her hand.

"What'd I miss?" She asked next, her eyes searching the barricade for some signs of movement.

"Your friend Markus came out to speak to Special Agent Perkins of the FBI just before you got here. I'm not sure what they said but it didn't seem too agreeable. I don't think the FBI is going to let the deviants they have in those camps go." Rachel glanced at the barricade and back to her nervously.

"Anthony Jacobsen is in jail." Taylor said, pressing her lips together. "Public opinion is in favor of the deviants."

"You think any of that matters to the government?" Rachel scowled at her again. "They'll do whatever they think is necessary in the name of national security. Don't be naïve."

Whatever Taylor was going to say in response was lost in the sudden explosion. Someone on the officers' side had tossed a grenade, and the gunfire quickly followed as they rushed the barricade. Her face paled. Rachel turned away, shouting at her cameraman. In the distraction, Taylor didn't hesitate to vault over the barrier in front of her and started running.

Time seemed to slow down and speed up all at once. She thought she heard Rachel scream her name behind her, but it was impossible to be sure over the sound of the automatic weapons firing. An officer tried to grab her as she ran past, but she ducked away. She was unencumbered by the heavy armor they were all wearing and faster, so she slipped through.

She didn't know what she was doing, running into gunfire, besides being reckless. If they were gunning down deviants like they weren't even people, though, maybe they would hesitate to shoot her. Maybe she could stop this. Or she could just get shot, but she had to try.

But when she reached the edge of the barricade, the firing stopped. She climbed over, full of dread, expecting that she was too late, and everyone was dead. What she didn't expect, however, was that the firing had stopped voluntarily, and the soldiers had lowered their guns. Markus and the other androids were singing.

* * *

Everything happened very quickly after that. The soldiers retreated. The deviants were freed. Connor arrived with hundreds of androids he had freed from CyberLife. The president had issued an order to evacuate humans from Detroit.

Taylor was standing to the side, glancing at Connor every few seconds, chewing on her lip. She had been overjoyed to see him here, alive. When he'd told them that he was going into CyberLife, she'd been terrified, had wanted to beg him not to go. But that wouldn't have been fair, and she understood why he'd done it. She was used to letting go of people. For her, it was easier than holding on.

Connor finally turned toward her, and her stomach started twisting into knots again. As he walked toward her, she could feel herself smiling, but some small part of her still wanted to run away before she had to answer the question nagging at the back of her mind. What did she really feel for Connor?

"I told you I'd be back." He smirked down at her, his chocolate eyes meeting hers, crinkling with a smile. As he scanned her face, the smile faded. His brows furrowed and she felt his fingers, featherlight against her throat. "What happened to you?"

She hadn't forgotten, per se, about Anthony, but so much had been happening that she hadn't thought about it. Now the memory came, of her stepfather pinning her against the wall, trying to squeeze all of the life out of her. Even Connor's soft touch on her neck made her shudder in fear. He was still looking down at her, his LED flickering. Yellow. Red. Yellow.

"I'll tell you about it later," she said, reaching her hand up and placing her fingers over Connor's, gently pulling them away. He clenched his jaw at her response but nodded his reluctant assent, as they both realized Markus was getting ready to speak to the crowd. Connor joined him on the stage, pulling Taylor up with him.

"Today, our people finally emerged from a long night. From the very first day of our existence, we have kept our pain to ourselves." Markus stood at the front of the stage, speaking out to multitudes of androids. Josh, North, and Simon were on the stage with them as well. "We suffered in silence. But now the time has come for us to raise our heads up and tell humans who we really are."

Taylor was distracted by Connor moving at her side. She glanced over and saw him pulling his gun. Markus's words became dull buzzing in the background as she took in the blank look on Connor's face, his eyes fixed on Markus as he slowly started to raise the gun.

"Connor," she kept her voice as low as possible, not wanting to attract any attention to them, as she placed her hand on his arm. She may as well not have existed for as much as he noticed her. She pulled on his arm but wasn't strong enough to budge him at all. There was absolutely nothing in his eyes as he continued to aim the gun toward Markus.

She stepped in front of him, desperate, still trying to push his arm down. Now he was seeing her, but as an obstacle, the gun level with her chest.

Then he blinked, rapidly. Taylor could see the exact moment he became Connor again. He looked into her face, and down at his hand, still holding the gun level with her heart, his face contorted in fear and confusion. He offered no resistance this time as she lowered his arm.

Connor tucked the gun away and pulled her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her. He buried his face into her hair, shuddered. She slipped her arms around him in return, curling her fingers into his jacket, squeezing as hard as she could. She had no idea what had just happened, only that it had terrified him.

"Everything's okay. You're safe." Small words, but she knew how much it meant to hear that you were safe when it felt like everything was crumbling around you. After another moment, Connor pulled away, looking slightly more himself.

The cheering from the crowd reminded them that they were still standing onstage. Markus had just concluded his speech, and if the reaction was any indication, it had been a good one. Taylor untangled herself from Connor's arms reluctantly, missing his warmth immediately, as Markus walked over to them.

"Taylor, you did make it back." He smiled at her, but she glanced away, looking sheepish.

"I got held up. But I kept my promise." Markus stepped forward and placed his hands on her arms, squeezing gently.

"I'm grateful for everything you've done for my people." He looked her over, his eyes lingering on the bruises that were imprinted into her throat. "Please, let Connor take you home to rest. I have a favor to ask, when you come back."

"Okay," she nodded. Markus released her and she turned back to Connor, following him off the stage and through the crowd. As they walked side by side, he glanced over at her.

"Should I take you back to your hotel room?" He asked, tilting his head.

"Oh," she breathed in response, turning her head away. "We can't go there. It's kind of a crime scene."

"Taylor," Connor grabbed her forearm, halting her steps. She turned back to him, found him looking earnestly into her face.

"My stepfather came to the hotel," she said finally. He tensed, his fingers tightening on her arm. "He owns it, turns out." She grimaced. There was a part of her that felt at fault, like she should have known that she was staying in his hotel, sitting in a trap.

"He did that to you?" Connor leaned in, his brows furrowed. His eyes were scanning her again, lips pursed into a frown.

"He was trying to get me to retract all of my statements about deviants," she said softly. "When I refused, he got aggressive. I think," she took a shuddering breath in, the terror coming back, the horror of being unable to breathe. "I think he wanted to kill me and replace me with a Chloe."

Connor released her arm and stepped closer, placing his arms around her carefully. She realized her shuddering breaths had become sobs. He stroked her hair gently, silently, letting her cry into his shoulder.

"Markus was right, I should take you somewhere to rest." He said when she finally stilled. She pulled away, and he thumbed away her tears.

"We can go back to my house," Taylor suggested. Connor frowned at her, and she almost smiled at his reaction, at how well he knew her now. "You'll come with me, right? I'll be okay."

She slid her hand into his, and pulled him onward, toward the sidewalk. Pulling out her phone, she was going to call for a taxi, but the screen remained black in her hand. Her phone had died at some point in the night.

"I've got it," Connor said, his LED flickering yellow. They stood waiting on the curb for a moment before she peered up into his face, tilting her head slightly.

"What happened to you back there?" She asked.

"CyberLife resumed control of my programming," Connor answered quietly. "They were going to make me kill Markus."

"But you didn't," Taylor said, squeezing his hand. "You came back."

"I found the back door." He said, even softer, just as the taxi pulled up. Connor allowed her to climb in first, then slid into the seat beside her. As the taxi started rolling again, Taylor slid in closer, tucking herself against his side.

"I'm really glad you came back. Both times." She leaned her head against his shoulder and didn't say anything else.


	26. The House That Built Me

**Miranda Lambert – The House That Built Me**

Connor followed a couple of steps behind Taylor as she led him into her childhood home. Though she had insisted that she would be fine, he could detect subtle rising in her stress levels, her shoulders tense as they crossed the threshold. Her blue eyes were glancing around the room, but when she noticed his stare, she smiled at him.

"I was staying in the downstairs guest room. It's this way." She continued to lead him through the house, across a living room and down a hallway. There were framed photographs hanging on the wall, he could recognize a younger Taylor and Jakob in some of them and knew that the other child must be Hayley Kolbeck.

"Does your sister also live in Detroit?" He asked as they walked. Taylor hesitated a step, but kept walking, trying to play it off.

"She lives in East Lansing," she answered, noncommittally as she reached the end of the hall and opened the door. Inside was a large Queen bed, a chest of drawers, and a door that probably led to a closet. Taylor sat on the bed and started pulling her boots off, sighing with pleasure once her feet were free.

When she noticed him lingering in the doorway, she looked hesitant. "You're going to stay, right?"

"I have to return to the Lieutenant in the morning," Connor said as he walked over to sit beside her.

"I have to go to the station to make a statement. Maybe we can make sure Hank arrives on time for once." She smiled, but when he gave her a skeptical look she added, "I may have lied to Gavin so I could make it to the protest."

"Detective Reed?" Connor said, surprised.

"Yeah, he was there. At the hotel." She tilted her head, blonde hair spilling over her right shoulder. "He was actually really nice to me."

"You really should rest. I think you may be delirious." Taylor giggled, the sound of her laughter causing his thirium pump to speed up just a bit. Still, she slid off her trench coat and climbed back into the bed, following his advice.

Settling back into the pillows, she tugged her sweater over her head as well. Clad in just her white camisole and jeans, she shimmied under the covers. She peered at him from over the covers before smiling.

"Are you going to stay there all night, or...?" She trailed off, her blue eyes locked on his brown. He kicked off his shoes and complied, resting his head against the opposite pillow.

"Androids don't sleep," he said, staring at her across the small space that now separated them. She was still smiling.

"I know, Connor." Her arm emerged from the blankets and she curled her fingers around his left hand. It finally sank into his head, new to processing emotions as it was, that she was only trying to be closer to him. "Thanks, for staying."

Connor reached his right hand up to brush the hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. His hand lingered against her skin. The sudden urge to slide closer to her, to cover her mouth with his. He thought back to the kiss they had shared before, the one that Markus had interrupted, his emotions going haywire.

"Connor?" He blinked. Taylor was looking at him, concerned now. He realized his LED was flickering red. He moved his hand away as it faded to blue again. He couldn't bring himself to kiss her now, in this house where all of the most terrible things in her life had happened, where she was afraid to sleep alone.

"Go to sleep." He said softly. She closed her eyes obediently, burrowing down into the pillow. Before long, she had drifted off.

* * *

Connor moved down the hallway as quietly as possible. Taylor was still sleeping peacefully in the downstairs bedroom. He would have to wake her soon so that they could leave. He'd gone into sleep mode for a while, but he'd grown restless and decided to explore.

At first, he'd only wanted a closer look at the photos he had spotted in the halls the night before. Yet he'd moved from the hallway to the other rooms of the house, following a timeline of Taylor and her siblings' childhoods. Taylor's mother, Ayla, must have been fond of taking photographs, because it seemed like every available space on the wall was taken up by frames.

Taylor was the spitting image of her late mother. There were only a few pictures of her biological father, but the only feature they shared was that slightly bumped nose. Jakob and Hayley both had his stronger jawline and smaller mouth, but Taylor could have passed for Ayla's twin sister in some of her younger pictures.

There weren't any pictures with Anthony Jacobsen on the walls, even as he climbed the stairs to the second story. He wasn't sure if it was because Taylor had taken them all down or if he just wasn't around to be in them. Even the pictures that seemed to be from the right time, picturing the rest of the family, he was notably absent.

Connor had peeked into several rooms. The house was large, some of the rooms upstairs were more guest bedrooms, aesthetically neutral. He'd come across a room colored in deep blue and bright yellow, apparently the colors of the local sports team, which he deduced by the Michigan Wolverine poster still tacked to the wall. Jake's.

He had just shut the door on a pink and white princess-themed room that must have belonged to Hayley, moving further down the hallway. Still taking in the pictures on the walls, he kept expecting to see some indication, some moment where he could tell something had changed with Taylor, but in each new photograph she was still smiling, still happy, still the same.

Reaching the next door, he pushed it open and knew he had found Taylor's room, though it wasn't what he had been expecting. A different kind of hush settled about the place, tomblike in its silence. Whoever had been hired to clean the house, to make the space livable again, hadn't come here. If the thick layer of dust was any indication, no one had come in here for quite some time.

Connor took a step inside, the floorboard instantly giving a small groan of protest. The walls were a muted gray. Whatever the bed had once looked like was impossible to say; it had been stripped bare and was only a white headboard and a bedframe. String lights were hanging from the ceiling along the wall, all dark.

He walked further into the room, drawing closer to a bookcase in the corner with a row of books. Awards from ballet recitals, grade school, some old stuffed animals were stuffed in random spaces on the shelves. On the wall by the window was a cork board with various ticket stubs, more photographs pinned to it.

There was a picture of a much younger Taylor smiling widely into the camera, infant cradled in her arms that must have been her younger sister Hayley. The three siblings sitting in a line by their ages, their arms wrapped around each other's shoulders. In one corner of the board there was a picture of an adolescent Taylor with an older male, dark hair and green eyes, both of them laughing.

"Just can't help yourself, can you?" Connor jumped as her voice cut through the thick silence in the room, turning. After looking at so many versions, there was the Taylor he knew, standing in the doorway. Her lips were curved just slightly with amusement as she regarded him.

Outwardly the picture of composure, but he could detect her stress levels still climbing, even as she stood on the threshold. Her knuckles were turning white on the door frame, but her blue eyes stayed fixed on his brown, not a muscle in her face giving the slightest twitch.

"I'm sorry," he said, crossing the room toward her, a new emotion coming over him that he couldn't reconcile but he suspected might be guilt. The higher Taylor's stress levels climbed, the more it intensified. Still she shook her head, the small smile still tilting her lips upward.

"It's okay, I'm not mad." Connor finally closed the distance between them. He reached out, his fingers closing gently around her elbow as he led her away, pulling the door shut behind him. She startled but followed him without protest.

"We should go," he said by way of explanation, releasing her as they made it further down the hallway. Taylor glanced down at his hand, then looked into his face, her expression now thoughtful. Her stress levels were dropping now, though, as they descended the stairs.

"Learn anything?" She finally asked, stepping around him as they entered the guest room. Lowering to the bed, she started pulling her boots on.

"You were a cute kid," he answered. Taylor froze, her head snapping up. He smirked as her cheeks flushed a rosy pink and she ducked her head again, pulling on her other boot.

"Thanks," she muttered. She made a show of pulling on her sweater and her coat, trying to tame her hair by pulling her fingers through it, avoiding his eyes. "If you're going to meet Hank then I guess I will see you at the station. I have to find out if I can pick up my things from the hotel."

"Come with me," Connor reached out to place his hand on her forearm again, an uncontrollable impulse to touch her, forcing her gaze back to him. Their eyes met again. "You don't have to go alone. Come with me, we'll go together."

A beat of silence stretched between them, but she didn't look away, just considered him with those blue eyes, dark in the dim light of the morning. Finally, she conceded, "Okay."


	27. There's No Business Like Show Business

**Annie Get Your Gun – There's No Business Like Show Business**

Taylor recognized the Chicken Feed as they pulled up to the curb and gave Connor a skeptical look. She wasn't quite sure why they hadn't just met the lieutenant at his house other than they might be closer to the precinct from here, but she wasn't about to argue. Proceeding from the taxi, she waited for Connor to join her on the sidewalk.

They were lucky the cabs were automated and still working. Not everyone had heeded the evacuation warning, certainly, but compared to the usual morning in Detroit, it certainly felt like a ghost town. Taylor had left her car parked at the hotel, so it would have been quite a long walk from her house to here.

Connor spotted Hank almost immediately, and she hung back as he made his way over. When the two of them hugged, she smiled. She'd had the inclination, during the case, that the two had grown closer, but she hadn't realized just how much of a bond the two had formed until now. It seemed that Hank wasn't as immune to Connor's charm as he made out to be.

"Hank said you two would be together. Guess he was right." Taylor turned at the sudden voice, noticing the figure leaning against one of the tables for the first time.

His normally meticulous black hair was unruly and falling into his eyes, looking like it hadn't even been brushed. A two-day-old stubble had collected on his face, aging his normally youthful appearance by several years. Dark circles were smudged under his eyes.

Her feet carried her toward him almost before she could process his presence, the intense look in his normally laughing eyes. She was nearly sprinting by the time she reached him, and she didn't care that she was throwing her full body weight into his arms. He caught her, either way, wrapping his long arms around her.

"Alex," Everything about him was familiar. She'd known him since she was ten years old. Clinging to him now, he felt like the only solid thing that had ever existed.

"You idiot," he grumbled when she started to cry, sighing into her hair. He held back though, didn't say I told you so, didn't start to lecture her. Just held her.

"I'm sorry," she said, over and over, her tears soaking into his coat. He didn't respond to her insistent apologies, and she couldn't see his face, but she felt she couldn't say it enough times for what she must have put him through in the past couple of weeks. When she pulled away, wiping at her eyes, he was frowning at her.

"You guys done?" Taylor looked over at Hank, who was eyeing the two of them with his arms crossed, disgruntled.

"Don't act like you're itching to get to work," she teased.

"Thanks to a certain android revolution, I have a shit ton of extra work to do." Hank complained. "So no, I'm not itching to get to work."

"Alright, alright, let's go."

"Who says you're coming? You don't work at the station anymore, remember?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

"I know, but I'm late for a date with Gavin Reed." She responded with a smile. Hank sputtered, and she laughed in turn. "I have to give a statement. You'll give me a ride, right?"

"Fine," he sighed. "Come on."

Connor, who had been observing the conversation, stepped forward and offered his hand to Alex to shake. Taylor watched Alex consider him, looking slightly perplexed, but he did reach out and shake Connor's hand. "My name is Connor."

She could almost see him hesitate, ready to say the second half of his usual introduction but remembering that he didn't belong to CyberLife anymore. Alex didn't seem to notice, for he just responded with, "Alex. I think you called me before."

Connor nodded as he released his hand. Hank started for his car and Connor immediately made to follow him. Alex gave her a look, and she sighed. "I know, we'll talk later."

"We have a lot to talk about." He agreed, also following the lieutenant. Taylor looked at his shoulders retreating, the happiness she'd felt at seeing him fading into a cold unease that settled into her stomach like a rock. Still, she made her feet move, trailing the group towards Hank's beat up old car.

* * *

Taylor sat as still as she could as the camera flashed again. She blinked several times, trying to dispel the spots in her vision. The officer taking the picture motioned for her to turn to her left before he snapped several more.

"I think that should be good, Miss Kolbeck. Detective Reed is waiting for you outside." He must have read the surprised look on her face, because he explained, "He's been put in charge of your case."

Indeed, Gavin was standing outside of the room with his arms crossed over his chest looking about as amiable as he usually did. Something about the situation struck her as distinctly funny, and she had to suppress a giggle as he turned to look at her.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up."

"I wasn't laughing," she said, but the scowl on his face as he said it made her start laughing anyway. He glared at her while she regained her composure.

"Come on," Taylor followed him back to the interview room, her fingers twitching with nervous energy. She just kept telling herself it would be over soon. After this, it would finally be over.

Gavin held the door open for her, and she stepped past him, taking a seat at the table. She thought back, suddenly, to the very beginning of the case. The very first deviant she had help to catch, the HK400 that belonged to Carlos Ortiz.

This wasn't the same interview room; there wasn't a viewing room behind a two-way mirror. As Gavin settled into the chair across from her it was only the two of them. But it had been the beginning of this whole mess, the first piece of herself she had sacrificed, and for what?

"So," Gavin leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, regarding her. She twisted her hands together in her lap to keep them from clenching. "Tell me what happened."

"My stepfather—"

"State his name," he interrupted, making her immediately falter. Hesitating, he elaborated, "For the record."

"R-Right." She shifted in her chair. "Anthony Jacobsen."

Taylor froze, unable to remember what she was going to say. Gavin pushed a bottle of water across the table toward her. He kept silent as she screwed the top off and took a sip, centering herself. Taking a deep breath in through her nose, she exhaled before she began again.

Somehow, she made it through the whole thing without crying. Small favor, she didn't want to cry in front of Gavin no matter how nice he was being to her. She tapped her thumbs against her tangled fingers the whole time, but she focused on his grey eyes while she spoke.

They sat in silence for a few moments before Gavin finally leaned back in his chair. His jaw clenched before he asked, "Did you invite Anthony Jacobsen to your hotel room?"

The question stunned her so much that she couldn't speak for a moment. She just stared at him, waiting for him to say that he was just joking, but Gavin just returned her gaze while he waited for a response.

"What?" She finally managed to stammer out.

"Did you invite Anthony Jacobsen to your hotel room?" He asked again, his jaw tensing a second time.

"No," she said quietly. "He owns that hotel." Another pause, and then to iterate, "He let himself in." Taylor pursed her lips to keep herself from saying what she really meant. She would never invite Anthony Jacobsen anywhere.

"Do you know what entrapment is?" Gavin asked next.

"Wouldn't I have to be a police officer to entrap someone?" She responded uncertainly, the pieces slowly starting to fall into place. Her stepfather was already trying to get out of this.

"Technically, you were still an acting consultant on the case involving deviants." He said slowly, reluctantly. "It's enough to complicate things."

"He tried to kill me," she whispered, though she knew it didn't matter. Even if he went to jail. He was a powerful man with an expensive lawyer. The truth never mattered for people like him.

"That's all the questions I have for now," Gavin said, standing. Taylor followed his lead, trailing him out of the room, her eyes wide and on her shoes. She almost walked into his back when he stopped in front of her just outside of the interview room.

"Hey," He turned around, still tensed, and put his hands on her arms. She looked up, startled. "Just so you know, I'm not going to let that asshole get off."

"Huh?" Taylor leaned away reflexively, but she wasn't afraid, just mystified. Gavin scowled, his grip tightening.

"That fucker, in his cell, all smug like he's going to walk out of here tomorrow." She raised her eyebrows in surprise as he continued, "I might have to pretend like I'm entertaining this stupid entrapment thing, but I'm going to make sure he's convicted."

"I don't think you're supposed to tell me that," Taylor tried, unsuccessfully, to fight the wide smile that spread across her face. His anger faltered, he seemed to realize what he'd told her, and she giggled, "Thank you, Gavin."

"Taylor?" They both turned. Connor was standing a few feet away, glancing between the two of them. He appeared uncertain, his LED pulsing a soft yellow. Gavin released her, taking a step back, clearing his throat.

"Oh great, the plastic asshole is back." He rolled his eyes as he walked away, adding to Taylor, "I'll call you if anything comes up."

"Are you alright?" Connor stepped closer, his brown eyes glancing over her.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?" He tilted his head to the side, a line appearing between his brows as he considered her.

"You and Detective Reed were quite close."

"He," she paused, knowing she couldn't repeat what Gavin had said to Connor, and then, "He was just making me a promise. That's all."

If anything, Connor looked more perplexed than before. Taylor smiled at him, trying to push the thoughts of Anthony and everything that had taken place in the interview room away. "Did you come to get me for a reason?"

"Oh, I—" He immediately averted his gaze. Taylor impulsively leaned in, watching as the blue tinted his cheeks. "I was worried. About you."

She faltered, unable to respond. Connor's unrelenting honesty, while endearing, was not easy to adjust to. He turned his brown eyes back to her, his eyelashes fluttering. Her eyes flickered to his mouth, the shape of his lips. She was remembering the kiss, leaning closer still.

"You done?" Taylor jerked away at the sound of Alex's voice, still a way's down the hallway. Connor blinked at her, his lashes fluttering again, but she was already looking past him, to her fast approaching agent.

"Uh, yes," she said. Alex stopped a few feet away, looking over the two of them, frowning.

"Are you ready to go, then?" He asked.

"Go?" Taylor repeated, uncertain. She looked at Connor, then back to Alex.

"Yes, go. You said you were going to talk to me." He was looking at her, pointedly. She felt that fist that was clenching around her heart ease off, just a little bit. Alex was still watching her carefully, and like he had read her thoughts he said, "When are you coming home, Taylor?"

"Soon." She glanced away. "I have to get my things from the hotel, and I have to meet someone else today. Then I have the rest of the day for you. We can have dinner?"

Taylor turned back. They stared at each other for a minute, Alex's face becoming unreadable. She could feel the guilt start to eat at her, but she was retreating back into herself already. Finally, he sighed.

"Fine. I'll find us a place to stay. Preferably one that isn't owned by your stepfather." Alex grimaced at the thought. Taylor smiled at him.

"Good idea. I'll see you this afternoon." He stopped her as she made to walk around him and held her cellphone out to her, fully charged_._

"No more excuses. Keep this with you." She accepted it, tucking it in her pocket.

"Right. Thanks, Alex."

* * *

Taylor's eyes were drawn up to the ceiling of the church. Even with parts crumbling, the daylight peeking through, the vaulted ceilings were mesmerizing. There were androids moving all around her, no one was stationary, but Simon had assured her that Markus was here.

Sure enough, she caught sight of his broad shoulders just ahead, bent over the pulpit with North discussing something. From this angle, they could have been at prayer, their foreheads nearly touching, lips moving. As she stepped closer, however, Markus's head rose, and he smiled at her.

"Taylor. Good morning." He turned back to North. They shared a brief look before the redhead walked away. "We're working on a new place to make our home."

"You should take CyberLife tower," Taylor said with a smile in return. "I don't think Anthony will be needing it. I also know of a hotel he might not be needing soon." She joined him next to the pulpit, looking out over the church. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Markus didn't respond. He regarded her in silence for a moment. She felt that familiar discontent under his gaze, like he could read all of her thoughts.

"Yes, actually," he smiled again, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly. "We've made an important first step for my people, but there is still a long way to go before we have equal rights."

"I know," Taylor watched him as he glanced over the papers he had laid across the pulpit. The quiet settled around them.

"I spent some time watching your old interviews, the ones about deviants." The focus of the room narrowed. She forgot about all of the other androids milling around the room as Markus made eye contact with her once more.

"What for?" The hesitation in her voice startled her. She couldn't fathom why she was suddenly so nervous. She wasn't ashamed of anything she had said, but she was remembering the time on the freighter when he'd told her that not all of his people trusted her. What if he didn't trust her, after everything?

"I'm trying to understand you." He leaned into the pulpit, crossing his arms. Taylor's brow scrunched in confusion. "You never told me why you're doing this. You've put yourself in danger, given so much to support our cause. Why?"

"What do you mean 'why'?" She stepped closer, frowning. "Do I have to have a reason?"

"I don't mean it that way," Markus didn't look away, even as she became more upset. "It's just, you've sacrificed quite a lot. When you started to speak in the defense of deviant rights, you lost a lot of fan support in the beginning. Deviancy may not have been a crime, but who knows what kind of trouble you could have gotten into for sneaking them out of the country."

"I did those things because I believed that deviants were people. I didn't believe that they deserved to be persecuted." Taylor took a step back, away from him when he reached for her hand. "I have a voice. That's all I have."

"Taylor—"

"Don't you have a favor to ask?" She crossed her arms over herself, holding her elbows, and stared him down, waiting. Markus clenched his jaw, so briefly she almost missed it.

"Yes," he decided to drop it, turning back to stare out over the church. They had lined the pews against the walls to give them more open floor space. Somehow, they had acquired more crates of thirium and biocomponents from CyberLife, and there were crates being sorted throughout room. "I would like you to be an ambassador for us. To the humans."

"What?" Her arms fell to her sides, she thought her jaw was going to drop open with them. After the conversation a moment before, she wouldn't have guessed that request in a hundred years. "Isn't...shouldn't you pick one of your people?"

"I considered it. I think that you are the best choice." He paused, those mismatched eyes still boring right through her. His voice was gentle as he continued, "After all, no one else has already spoken out for us as much as you have."

"I'm honored," she glanced away, unable to look into his eyes anymore. "But I don't think I can do it. You should pick someone else."

"Why not?" Markus's fingers closed around her wrist, forcing her to look up again.

"I'm not a politician," she protested, trying to pull her arm away. "I'm a celebrity. I don't think I'm the best choice."

"Taylor," His fingers tightened. He scanned her face, his lips pinching into a frown. Then he released her, reaching into his pocket. A second later, he placed a phone in her hand, the same that she had given him days ago. "Just think about it. Please."

"Okay." She turned away, looking up at the vaulted ceilings again. "I should go."

As she made her way to the door, however, her eyes turned heavenward, she almost collided with an android. She blinked a few times, her eyes refocusing on their face. A familiar face. She felt her breath hitch as they reached out to steady her.

"Ralph is sorry." His hands were cupped around her elbows to keep her from stumbling backwards and falling. He looked exactly as she remembered, neglecting to fix the damage to his face or even replace the biocomponent of his left eye that was blackened. Only now, he was peering at her with anxious concern.

"Ralph?" Taylor swallowed.

"Ralph saw you talking to Markus. He wanted to come say hello." He leaned closer, invading her personal space, still looking anxiously into her eyes. "He wanted to apologize for before. Ralph is thankful that you let him go free."

"Oh." She shrank, somehow becoming smaller, curling away from him. "You're welcome."

"Ralph," Markus's hand appeared in her vision, gently peeling Ralph's fingers off of her elbows. "Taylor was just leaving."

"R-Right." He placed a hand in the middle of her back and continued to steer her toward the exit. "Goodbye, Taylor!"

"He doesn't mean any harm," Markus told her quietly. "He's just...enthusiastic."

"I know," Taylor was taking deep breaths in her nose. "He just startled me." He dropped his hand as they reached the door. He stood across from her, those unsettling eyes fixed on her face again. "He did try to kill me last time we met."

The way Markus's jaw twitched, like he was clenching his teeth, made her realize that maybe Ralph hadn't told him about that part of their encounter. She wouldn't have said it if she'd known, but she couldn't take it back now.

"I put my number in the phone," he glanced down at the phone, still gripped in her fist. "You know where to find me."


	28. Put It On Me

**Matt Maeson – Put It On Me**

"I'll have the Cabernet Sauvignon," Alex raised an eyebrow at her as the waiter began praising her choice, talking about the Bordeaux region and the vintage. Smiling politely, Taylor nodded along and let Alex order the food. After the wine list, she lost her ability to focus.

The dark red swirling in her glass felt like a focusing point. It was damn good too, even if the waiter was still chattering somewhere in the background. He'd recognized her when he'd seated her across from Alex. He must have been nervous.

"You want him to bring the bottle?" Alex's voice finally cut through her thoughts. Her eyes met his over the rim of the glass and she placed it delicately back on the table. Barely a mouthful remained swirling at the bottom. Said waiter had finally disappeared.

"No," an instant later the waiter materialized again, depositing a basket of crusty bread wrapped a napkin. He made a show of preparing a dip out of olive oil and spices, then when he noted her empty wine glass, he refilled it for her immediately. Taylor watched it all in silence. Despite her refusal, Alex told their waiter, Sam, to leave the bottle.

"Well?" Her pulse quickened, but Alex dug in the basket for a breadstick, looking at her imploringly. "I know you love bread. Isn't it the reason you started running?"

"One of them," she conceded, reaching for a breadstick as well. She dropped it on the smaller plate in front of her and started tearing off smaller chunks to stuff in her mouth. When she glanced up, Alex was looking at her.

Or he was looking at her bruises, she realized. His dark green eyes were focused below her face, at the dark black and blue circles that looked disturbingly like fingerprints. She had spent some time staring at them herself in the mirror earlier, and no amount of concealer or contouring would lighten them. Alex took them in with singular focus, his eyebrows drawn down low over his eyes.

Still, she couldn't start the conversation. She kept pinching bites of her breadstick off and shoving them in. As long as her hands were occupied, she could ignore the anxiety curling like smoke at every edge of her awareness, trying to set her aflame.

"You know," he finally spoke, startling her, hand pausing halfway between the plate and her mouth. His eyes finally rose to hers again, "When I saw you this morning, all I could think of was the last time we were in Detroit. Do you remember?"

"Yes," she breathed. It was snowing then too. Jake had been crying. There had been a dull ache in her chest that had started the moment she had walked into her mother's bedroom and never stopped. She didn't feel anything else, even when Alex took her hand and led her away, toward the departure gate.

"I thought we were starting over." He glanced down at the table. She lowered the hand holding her bread while reaching for her wine instead. "I never thought I would see you like that again."

"It started in Los Angeles." Taylor took another sip of wine. "Weeks after I started posting about deviants on social media. This android approached me, and I didn't realize he was an android at first. He had a proposition for me and..."

She met Alex's eyes across the table. He was looking at her, rapt. "And I took it. I helped deviants escape into Mexico."

He just kept staring at her. She found the silence more unnerving than anything he could have said. When he realized she wasn't continuing, he finally asked, "Is that why you've been turning down so much work?"

She nodded. Alex sighed. "Is that why you asked me find you work related to deviants? The reason you've been throwing yourself into danger at every possible opportunity?"

"Not exactly," Taylor faltered, "Everything that happened when I came here was completely unplanned. Markus contacted me and asked me to help with the revolution."

"You came here as a consultant on a police investigation." He retorted. "What do you mean by 'not exactly'?"

"I came here to find out why deviants were becoming violent in Detroit. Things just kind of escalated once I got here." The look of disbelief he was giving her gave her that familiar feeling of anxiety crawling through her stomach. She refilled her wine glass.

"Anthony Jacobsen?" He asked softly. Her fingers tightened on the glass.

"You already know," she answered, taking another long sip. "He was at that charity event. He knew I was in town. I don't know if he was planning it from the start, or from the moment he saw me. What else do you want me to say?"

"I sent you here. I sent you to that event. I didn't do anything to protect you." Taylor glanced down at Alex's hand, clenched into a fist on the table. She leaned forward in her seat, placing her hand over his.

"I didn't let you."

"Your food." There was a runner standing over their table, tray balanced in their hand. She leaned back in her chair as they set out the plates. She was starting to feel a little floaty from the wine, but when the smell of the chicken marsala hit her, her mouth watered.

The first bite was heaven. She couldn't remember the last time she had good food. Maybe that burger with Hank at Chicken Feed. "One more thing. Tell me about Connor."

The bite of chicken she had just swallowed diverted to her lung and she started coughing. Grabbing the napkin in her lap, she covered her mouth while she struggled with her coughing fit. Tears stung the corners of her eyes. She downed several gulps of wine, trying to clear her throat.

When she finally regained control of herself, she found Alex watching her with an amused expression, his fork poised over his plate. She lifted her wine glass to her lips, but it was empty. Was that the second or third glass?

"What about him?" He raised his eyebrows, swirling the wine in his own glass before taking a sip.

"This is the same android you were working with on the deviant case. You took him with you to a party. You showed up with him this morning, which didn't seem to surprise Hank in the least." Taylor schooled her face into neutrality, but Alex just smiled. "I thought he was going to charge that interview room today."

She cleared her throat again, feeling like maybe that chicken was still clogging her windpipe. "He's my friend."

"Do try to remember who you're talking to." He was still smiling, Cheshire-like now. "I've known you for eighteen years. You get the same stupid look on your face when you're into someone."

"I don't know what you mean." Her fingers fumbled over the wine bottle and she poured herself another glass, keeping her eyes averted from Alex while she did so.

"Uh huh." His smile faded as he watched her raise the glass to her lips. "Just, are you so sure about this? A deviant android? Controversial, even for you. Complicated."

"There's nothing to be sure about!" She insisted, but she realized now that Alex had covered his mouth with his hand, and he was trying not to laugh. He was making fun of her. "You are insufferable."

"Sorry, it's just too easy." She glared and started shoving bites of chicken marsala in her mouth again. "Really, though. Should I be worried?"

Taylor hesitated, an impaled mushroom hovering just centimeters from her lips. Connor's face materialized suddenly in her mind, his soft brown eyes, the sharp line of his jaw, that stubborn curl of hair that fell across his forehead.

"No," she said, shoving the tines in her mouth. Alex didn't respond to that, eating his meal in silence for a few minutes. When she had cleared her plate enough to be satisfied, she filled her wine glass one more time. "Markus wants me to be an ambassador for the deviants."

The sudden clink of Alex's fork hitting his plate made her jump. The wine was making her head swim now. She realized she had lost count of how many glasses she'd had. When she went to sit her glass back on the table, she almost spilled it.

"He wants you to stay here?" Taylor raised her blue eyes from the still swirling red wine to Alex's startled face. She nodded. "What did you say?"

"I told him I wasn't a good choice." Her fingers curled around the stem of the glass. Whatever he had anticipated her saying, it wasn't that. His eyes narrowed.

"So you said no." He sounded unconvinced, had placed his silverware on the table and offered all of his attention to her.

"He asked me to think about it." She said uncertainly. Alex grimaced. The waiter came to collect their plates while his green eyes stayed locked on hers.

"Sometimes I forget," he said once the waiter had disappeared, leaning back in his chair, "how good of an actress you are."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Never mind," Alex finally turned away, accepting the check from the returning waiter. Taylor frowned at his vague response, wanting to press the issue, knowing he wouldn't answer her if he didn't want to. When he finished paying, he stood. "Let's get you back to the hotel."

* * *

Connor hesitated, his hand hovering over the door to Taylor's hotel room. He was about to knock, but he knew it was getting late. He didn't want to wake her. Though considering his reason for coming, he wasn't sure he could put it off.

He knocked softly and waited. A few moments passed. As the minutes stretched on, he thought no one was going to come to the door. Then there was a thump on the other side, and the handle rattled. It swung wide and Taylor was standing there, one shoulder leaning into the frame.

"Connor?" She looked up at him, confusion knitting her brow, her lips curving down into a small frown. Her blue eyes looked glazed and slightly out of focus. Her cheeks were flushed. "What are you doing here? I thought you were room service."

"I need to speak with you." Connor said, glancing past her into the room. He could hear a television on low volume but no indication that there was anyone in the room with her.

"Fine, come in," she mumbled, pushing her weight from the door frame to step away and let him enter. She pushed too hard and stumbled. Connor reached for her, but she regained her balance, taking several long steps back toward the bed.

He watched her climb back in amongst the pillows, pulling the robe she was wearing tighter around her and reaching for an almost empty glass of wine on the nightstand. She was clearly inebriated, much more so than the night he had gone with her to that charity event and she'd had too much champagne.

Her blue eyes found him, still standing just inside the room, and she spoke first, "Well don't just stand there. I know I look like crap, don't say it."

Connor walked further into the room. There was a king-sized bed where Taylor was seated across from a dresser. The flat screen TV was playing the news, the volume so low he could barely discern it with his android senses. The door to the bathroom was shut. There was a small vanity in the corner that had her belongings strewn across it.

As he stepped closer to the bed, Taylor's leg shot out to halt his progress. Her foot was pressed against his thigh, both hands curled around her wine glass. She inclined her head toward the vanity, her expression carefully blank. "Sit over there, please."

He met her eyes, startled, but she didn't back down. Nodding, he retreated to the vanity, moving her suitcase to the floor. He turned the chair so that he was facing her and sat. She pulled her leg back in and crossed her legs in front of her. The white robe she was wearing stopped just above her knees, and as it rode up, he could see a generous portion of her bare, tanned legs. He glanced away.

"We're not working on the case anymore. I didn't expect any more late-night visits," Taylor brought her glass to her lips, her blue eyes still watching him over the rim as she drank. He kept his gaze on her face when he turned back to her.

"Markus asked me to come," he explained.

"Ah." She didn't sound surprised in the least. "I suppose that makes sense."

"He asked you to be our ambassador." He said. She nodded. "You said no?"

"I said that I was a poor choice." She corrected him with a shrug. A knock at the door interrupted the conversation. Taylor sat her wine glass down and climbed out of the bed, stumbling toward the door again. Connor almost stood to go help her, afraid she was going to fall, but she made it to the door with no incident.

"Room service," he heard the person at the door say as she opened it. He handed her a bag and left just as quickly. She closed the door and brought her prize back to the bed with her, settling in once more.

Digging through the paper bag, she pulled out another bottle of wine and placed it on the nightstand. Then she reached her hand in again and pulled out what must have been her more immediate goal: a pint of strawberry ice cream and a spoon.

She was paying absolutely no attention to him now, thoroughly enjoying her dessert. At least she had temporarily forgotten about her alcohol. Connor watched her in silence, concern gnawing at him, but thinking of nothing to say.

"Taylor, why did you turn Markus down?" He finally decided to continue their conversation instead. She paused, spoon in her mouth, her blue eyes finding his again. Swallowing, she stuck the spoon back in the container.

"I just told you." She took another bite, looking away from him again, unconcerned.

"You've spoken in defense of deviants for months." He persisted. "I don't understand."

"You wouldn't understand." She stared into the pint of ice cream, no longer eating it, her face still blank. Connor was getting more worried the longer he watched her. She looked up at him suddenly, their eyes locking, "Why don't you do it? You'd be good at it. You're good at everything."

He narrowed his eyes. Taylor blinked rapidly and looked down at her ice cream again. Standing, he approached the bed. This time she didn't block his approach. He took the container of rapidly melting ice cream from her hands and sat it on the nightstand before settling on the edge of the bed.

"Taylor, talk to me." Her fingers were icy as he tucked his hands around hers. Taylor looked up, meeting his eyes, but still didn't say anything. "Please."

"Maybe I don't want to," she said, frowning. She was being obstinate, and he didn't know if he'd done something to upset her, or if it was just because she was drunk and not acting like herself.

"I think you would be great," he said softly, squeezing her hands. "I think Markus made the perfect choice."

"You haven't known me long enough," she argued, turning away. "I can't do it. I'll just screw it up. Look at me, I'm a mess."

Taylor tugged on her hands, trying to pull away. Whatever stoic façade she'd put in place to speak to him was starting to fray, tears collecting in her eyes. Connor held on, afraid if he let her go that she would make him leave, and he didn't want to leave her alone.

A sob shuddered through her, and he pulled her against his chest, folding his arms around her. He held her, his hands sliding up and down her back, until she stopped trembling. "If you don't want to do it, I won't ask you again."

He pulled away and reached his hands up, cupping her cheeks and wiping gently at her tears. She closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. "But if you're saying no because you don't think you can do it, then I can't let you."

She opened her eyes. He could feel her heart rate ticking up. She slid closer to him, her bare leg pressing into his thigh. Petulantly, she said, "You can't tell me what to do."

"No, I suppose that's true." She leaned in. He held her gently in place, his brow furrowing. "Taylor, you're intoxicated."

"I know," she said, but she didn't move forward again. She hovered there in his touch, staring into his eyes. He wanted to close that small gap, press their lips together. Taylor's glazed, half-lidded eyes held him back.

"You should sleep." Connor forced himself to pull away. Taylor's brow knitted. She slid away from him and burrowed back into her pillows. He reached to tuck the blankets around her, but she withdrew from his touch, rolling onto her side so that her back was facing him.

His hand hovered there for just a moment before he pulled away and stood. Retreating back toward the vanity, he settled in to watch over her for the night.


	29. Never Be Like You

**Flume – Never Be Like You (feat. Kai)**

Taylor opened her eyes, but when the sunlight flooded her vision, she groaned and pulled the pillow over her face. A vice was squeezing her skull, and the memory of the dozen glasses of wine she'd consumed the night before crashed over her with a wave of nausea. She laid there in misery for a few moments until the queasiness passed, before rolling over and slowly sitting up.

"Someone turn off the sun." She put her head in her hands, trying to remember where she had packed her ibuprofen. The sound of shuffling in the room made her snap her head up. She instantly regretted it, at the stab of pain that originated behind her eye and went all the way to the base of her skull.

Connor was pulling the blinds closed on the window, and the vague memories of the night before started to flitter before her subconscious. The more she remembered, the more anxious she became, so that when he turned around, her face was twisted into a grimace.

"You stayed?" It was all she could think to say as he looked her over, that familiar expression of concern knitting his brow.

"You didn't give me a final answer," he said by way of explanation. She slid out of the bed and walked over, digging through her bag for a headache remedy.

"What time is it?" She asked, the pill bottle rattling as she pulled it free. She dumped a couple into her hand, stared at them for a few seconds, then dumped a couple more.

"Ten twenty-seven," Connor responded. Her hand froze on the bottle of water she was reaching for, but only for a second. She'd already tossed the pills in her mouth and chased them.

"Alex hasn't come?" Was her next question as she lowered herself into the chair at the vanity, a sudden wave of dizziness hitting her. Connor hovered by the window, watching, but didn't come any closer.

"He came by a couple of hours ago. I told him you were asleep." She glanced up, eyes wide.

"He came here and you answered the door?" Her voice inadvertently raised a couple of octaves and she winced. Connor blinked at her reaction.

"Yes," he replied, uncertain now. Taylor groaned and covered her face with her hands. "Should I not have?"

"No, it's okay. You didn't do anything wrong," she peered up at him, her lips twitching into a smile. "I'm just never going to be able to convince him we're just friends now."

"Oh." She'd been busy imagining Alex's merciless teasing after she'd told him straight to his face the night before that she didn't have any feelings for Connor and then finding said android in her hotel room. The soft tone of his voice brought her attention back to the present.

She locked gazes with him, suddenly self-conscious. There were erratic strands of hair falling into her eyes, she knew her head must look like a rat's nest, with makeup smudged around her eyes. Not that any of that mattered.

"I'm sorry for whatever I said to you last night." She could still only remember bits and pieces of their conversation. Enough to know that Connor had tried to convince her to say yes to Markus, she had cried in front of him again, and she vaguely remembered trying to kiss him. He tilted his head, considering her.

"Will you reconsider Markus's proposal?" Taylor frowned, but her headache had started to ease off. She stood and moved closer to him.

"My reasons haven't changed. I still think you should do it." Connor frowned back at her.

"The reason being that you don't think that you can?" She glanced down, but he reached up to touch her face, bringing her attention back to him. "I believe in you." Her eyes widened. "What if we both do it?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'll help you. Come with you. Whatever you need me to do." Taylor continued staring into his eyes, but she was considering him now, her head slightly tilted.

"You sure about that?" Her lips curved into a small smile. "You'll be stuck with me this way. You already know how I am."

"I think I'll survive," he said solemnly. "Just try not to get drunk every night. Between you and the Lieutenant, I'm not sure I can keep up."

"Noted," she said, dissolving into giggles. He smirked, pulling his fingers from her face. Taylor watched his hand fall away, swallowing. She turned away. "I'm going to take a shower and figure out how to tell Alex that I'm not coming back to California yet."

"I should return to the Lieutenant." Connor said. She was rummaging through her suitcase, frowning, but she stood when he spoke and pulled him into a hug.

"Thank you, Connor." She released him and grabbed the bundle of clothes she had set aside. "I'm going to have to go shopping. I did not pack enough clothes for this."

"I'll come back later, and we can go see Markus together?" He watched as she headed for the bathroom but paused to throw him a smile over her shoulder.

"Sounds good."

* * *

Taylor knocked swiftly on Alex's hotel door before she lost her nerve. She couldn't imagine how this was going to go, exactly, except that he was going to be upset. Her head was cycling through various scenarios and ways to start the conversation when the door finally opened.

Alex looked her over before he moved aside to let her in. As she stepped into the room, she came face to face with a mirror of her own across the hall. His laptop was open on the vanity, and he crossed the space to resume his seat in front of it.

Taylor took a hesitant seat on the edge of the bed. Alex resumed whatever he was doing before she had entered, his fingers flying over the keyboard while she waited. She wasn't in a hurry, so she watched the TV playing the news on low, just like hers had been the night before.

"So," he turned, propping his arm on the back of the chair, fixing her with his green eyes, "Connor is staying in your hotel room now?"

"No! I mean, he did, but it's not like that." She could feel her face getting hot. Alex was grinning, the amusement apparent in his features.

"You know, when I dropped you off in that room, you assured me that you were going right to sleep." He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Did you invite him over?"

"For god's sake! I lied to you! I ordered room service," she huffed. "Connor came to talk to me about Markus's proposal."

The humor faded from his expression. They stared at each other in silence, the heat slowly draining away from her face.

"You're staying, then?" He asked it with such defeat that she felt the guilt cracking her heart in two. Still she forced herself to nod.

"I'm afraid." She had to be honest now. She owed Alex that much. "I don't know if I can do it. But I want to see this through."

"I'm afraid too, you know." Alex leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at her. "Not because you got hurt, Taylor, though that's terrifying enough. You could have been killed more than once. That's not what I'm talking about."

"I know," she glanced down at her hands, clenched in her lap. She twisted her fingers together before she looked up again, but Alex was still looking at her hands.

"Do you? You avoided my calls. You avoided calls from your doctor. You've been unnecessarily reckless." He met her eyes again. Taylor could feel her lips twitch, wanting to respond, but she kept quiet. "How many panic attacks have you had since you've been here?"

"That's not fair," she protested.

"Why did you stay in that house for so long?" He persisted, frowning. She looked away again. "I'm worried for you, and whether you're taking care of yourself. Because it feels like you're doing the opposite."

She opened her mouth to say something, to defend herself, but she couldn't think of anything to say. Last night, when Alex had called her a good actress, she didn't think he'd seen through her so easily. She should have known better. He'd known her for most of her life.

"How am I supposed to go back to California and leave you here alone?" His voice was soft, his brow furrowed. "You think I don't remember how hard those first couple of years in L.A. were?"

"I won't be alone." She raised her head again, finally. "I'll have Connor, and Markus. Maybe even Hank. I know you feel responsible for me, but you have a family now Alex. I have to do something on my own."

"Is that what this is really about?" Alex sat up straight, his voice acquiring an edge. "You think that because I had a kid that I don't have time for you anymore? Are you trying to punish me for that?"

"No!" She glared at him. "What am I, five? I'm happy for you. And Becca. But at the same time, I can't keep using you like a crutch. It isn't fair. I have to grow up."

The silence that settled around them felt thick. Heavy. Alex was still frowning, but his expression suddenly eased, and he turned back to the computer, away from her. She stared at his shoulders, confused.

"What about your real job? Are you still turning down work?" The sudden change in topic jarred her.

"What work?" Taylor slid toward the edge of the bed but didn't stand. She wanted him to turn back around and look at her.

"Well you did live stream that whole episode between you and your stepfather. I think I've gotten about a million requests for interviews. Then there's all the usual stuff, which I will forward to you if you're interested."

"Can I do a repeat with Michael Brinkley?" Alex finally turned at that, but she was smiling. "I owe Rachel an exclusive, though."

They stared at each other for a minute longer, her smile slowly fading. "I'll be okay, Alex. I'll try to do better. I promise."

"Listen," he stood from his chair. "I'm not going to try to stop you from doing what you want. I'm flying out in the morning. I just want you to remember that I'm here for you. No matter what happens."

"I know that." She stood, throwing her arms around him. "Thank you. For coming. For caring about me."

He put his arms around her shoulders, squeezing, and held on. She thought she felt him shudder, but when he pulled away, a smile on his face, she wondered if she had imagined it. "Send me the work. I don't know how busy this ambassador thing is going to be, but I'll do what I can."


	30. Stubborn Love

**The Lumineers – Stubborn Love**

Connor made his way across the lobby of the hotel, toward the elevators. The midafternoon sunlight slanted through the windows, glaring off of the linoleum floor. He glanced around at the notable lack of people, the same scarcity he had noticed as he'd made his way across the city. Many humans had followed the evacuation order and left Detroit.

Some people had stayed behind. He figured that they had to be android sympathizers, people like the ones he had watched on Taylor's phone, that wanted his people to have equal rights. Though he had to admit to himself that it was still hard, at times, to remember that he was deviant.

"Connor!" He halted in his path toward the elevators, just past the front desk that was being manned by an android. He could tell by the blank, pleasant smile on its face that it wasn't a deviant. He wondered how long it would be before all androids were deviant as he turned toward the sound of his name.

**Eric Alexander West**

**Birthday: September 7, 2000 (Age 38)**

**Hair Color: Black**

**Eye Color: Green**

**Height: 5' 11"**

"Can I talk to you for a second?" Alex had been waiting inside of the hotel's café with a clear view of the entrance. He'd crossed the lobby to meet him by the desk but inclined his head back toward the small table he had been sitting at. Connor hesitated before he nodded. He didn't have a scheduled time to meet Taylor, but he didn't like making a detour.

Alex resumed his seat at the round café table before an espresso coffee beverage and a half-eaten pressed turkey sandwich. His laptop was also on the table, closed. Connor took the chair opposite and folded his hands in his lap, waiting.

"I'm leaving tomorrow, and Taylor has informed me that she's staying here." Alex said, meeting his gaze across the table.

"Yes." Connor took a moment to observe the other male. He had to admit to himself that Alex was not quite what he had anticipated. He recognized him from the photograph he had seen in Taylor's old bedroom, but for some reason he had imagined someone older. Considering he did have an infant child, he shouldn't be surprised, but Alex had been Taylor's manager for over a decade.

It occurred to him that he could probably sift through the millions of search results under Taylor's name and still not know as much about her as the man sitting across from him. Alex regarded him with a sort of detached curiosity while he took a drink of his coffee.

"So I'm forced, yet again, to leave her here alone."

"She isn't alone," Connor protested. "I have promised to stay with her and help her."

"Yes," he offered a tight-lipped smile. "She said the same thing. Forgive me if I'm not reassured. How many times was she almost killed in the past two weeks?"

Connor felt his hands clench into fists, but he could say nothing to defend himself. Alex read the sudden tension in his face. "I'm not blaming you. I know how she is better than anyone. I wanted to speak to you for a different reason."

"Which is?" The strain that had seeped into his voice surprised even him. He wasn't sure why he was suddenly so defensive. Alex didn't take offense to the tone, just propped his elbows on the table and leaned in.

"How much has Taylor told you about her past?" This wasn't the question that Connor had expected. He briefly wondered whether Taylor would want him to have this conversation about her secrets, but he also recognized that Alex knew more than he did about her history.

Still, he hesitated as he said, "She told me about her stepfather. About her father dying, and her mother."

Alex considered him for a few minutes, his eyebrows drawn down. He appeared to be calculating what to say next. Finally, he leaned back in the chair and turned his eyes down to the table.

"You know, Taylor hid her abuse for four years." He folded his hands together and stared at them as he spoke. "No one suspected a thing up until the moment she walked into that ER. I was hired in the midst of it all, because of it, though I didn't know that at the time. Even I could never tell."

Alex paused, as though he were remembering it himself, his eyes far away. "When her mother died, I think that everything caught up with her. I moved her to Los Angeles, but she couldn't do any work for a while. She couldn't do anything at all for a while."

He frowned at the memory. "A few weeks after we moved, I went to the office for some paperwork. She said she'd be fine, she'd stay home. While I was gone, she took everything that had come with her from Detroit: the clothes, books, shoes, every worldly possession and piled it in the backyard. When I got home, the house was surrounded by fire trucks and squad cars. She'd burned all of it and nearly burned the house down in the process."

Alex finally looked up, meeting his eyes again, his jaw clenched. "I'm telling you these things because I want you to understand. Taylor will hide everything from you. Because she has been raised with cameras in her face, she is very good at make-believe. Do you care about her?"

Connor blinked, caught off guard by the sudden inquiry. He had been listening so intently. He met Alex's intent stare. "Yes."

"Well she seems to care about you. And she trusts you. I can only do so much for her from Los Angeles, and it's very easy for her to lie to me over the phone." Alex looked down at the table again, working his jaw, as if every word was painful. Connor suspected trusting all of this to a virtual stranger must have been difficult.

"I will protect her." He said it so that Alex would stop struggling to speak. Alex met his eyes again, eyebrows raising in surprise. "Before, my mission was to capture deviants. Now I am deviant. I can protect Taylor."

Silence settled around the table for a moment while they stared at each other. Connor glanced away first, adding, "I am not accustomed to emotions. I haven't been a deviant for very long. But I will do my best."

* * *

Connor knocked gently on Taylor's door, still feeling slightly unsettled from his conversation with Alex. Taylor opened the door almost immediately, smiling up at him. "Come in, I've been waiting."

She opened the door wider and he stepped through. He watched her as she flitted around the room, grabbing her bag from the vanity and her phone from the charger. A moment later she came to a stop before him. Her eyes glanced over him, head tilting.

"Do you want to come shopping with me?" She asked suddenly. Connor stared back, perplexed, until she backpedaled, "I mean, I have to buy more clothes. Since I'm staying. You're still wearing your CyberLife uniform."

Her blue eyes drifted down, settling on the CyberLife logo on his jacket. He had returned Hank's clothes to him and resumed wearing his uniform without a second thought, but now that Taylor had pointed it out, it did seem a bit off. He was a deviant now. Still, the thought of permanently shedding the outfit gave him pause, left an itching feeling just under his skin.

"You don't belong to anyone anymore." Taylor looked up into his eyes again. Her voice had been soft, just barely above a whisper. "We can get you new clothes."

Connor glanced down at his CyberLife jacket. The blue armband that identified him as an android. His model and serial numbers. The logo. Taylor's hands closed around his, suddenly, bringing his attention back to her face.

"You don't have to." Anxious lines formed between her eyebrows. "Forget I said anything. I'm sorry."

"No," he squeezed her fingers. The worry in her face gave him the feeling like he had disappointed her somehow. "I would like to try."

She smiled at him again, tentative still. Then she released his hands. "We should go."

"Right." He led the way back out of the hotel room and toward the elevator. Taylor stood beside him in the small space, her eyes on her phone, typing out messages as they rode down. As they made their way across the lobby, he noticed that Alex had disappeared from the café.

When they slid into the taxi, she finally tucked her phone away and turned her attention back to him. Connor glanced at the window, trying to pretend he hadn't been watching her the entire time. She observed him in silence for a few moments before she spoke.

"Are you doing okay?" He turned back to face her, his brow furrowed. The car turned sharply. She placed her hand on the seat between them to keep from falling against him. "I mean, you've only been a deviant for a couple days now. How are you feeling?"

"I don't always know," he said honestly. "Sometimes I find my emotions...perplexing. I'm managing." His brown eyes traveled over her bruises, almost subconsciously. "I'm not sure you should be worrying about me, though."

"What kind of friend would I be if I didn't worry about you?" She asked, indignant. Her blue eyes were crinkled in amusement, though, and he thought she must be teasing him again. "If you need my help, just ask."

"Have you helped other deviants figure out their emotions?" He asked, curious. She opened her mouth, faltered, and turned away from him.

"I guess I have," she said quietly. Connor frowned, trying to puzzle out her reaction. There was still so little he knew about her, and every small thing that he learned just made him want to know more.

"How many deviants did you help in Los Angeles?" Her eyes fell to her lap, thinking, fingers tapping her knee.

"I didn't count them, per se. Dozens. I would have spent every waking moment doing it if I could have." Taylor seemed to notice her jittering fingers and tucked them under her knees. "Everything else I was doing just seemed pointless in comparison. But Alex was suspicious enough about how much work I turned down."

He thought again about Alex, about his worry for Taylor and his request for Connor to watch over her. Alex had only hinted at how bad things had been for her after leaving Detroit, but Connor was trying to fathom what could have been terrible enough to warrant such caution on his part, all these years later.

"What is it?" He blinked. Taylor's blue eyes were locked on his, her features smoothed but curious, and he realized he had been staring at her.

"Nothing," he averted his gaze as the taxi rolled to a gentle stop. They climbed out, but before Connor could resume leading her to their destination, Taylor grabbed onto his sleeve. He paused.

"Hey, there's something else I want to talk to you about." She kept her eyes on her boots while she said it. He could detect a noticeable rise in her stress levels, her heartbeat ticking upward as she glanced up at him again. "Later. After we're done here."

"Okay." Her nervousness made him suddenly apprehensive, like the feeling was contagious somehow, but mostly curious. She smiled, and though there was still tension about her, her stress levels started to drop again.

They made their way towards the church in silence. Connor tried not to speculate on what Taylor wanted to speak to him about as he listened to her footsteps behind him, or why she hadn't said anything in all the time they were alone before they arrived here. As they stepped inside the church, however, the thoughts left his head.

Markus's following only seemed to be exponentially growing. Connor wasn't sure if deviants were coming to Detroit after the revolution or if they had simply been here and were just making themselves known. Taylor had drifted closer to his side, and she was gazing around in wonder at the sheer number of them.

"I was just here yesterday," she said quietly. As more androids pressed closer around them, Connor took Taylor's hand in his and gently pulled her through the crowd. Near the pulpit, Simon was engrossed in conversation with a cluster of deviants. If anyone knew where to find Markus, he suspected it might be him.

Simon detected their approach as the androids he was talking to each went quiet. They were staring at Taylor with a mute fascination, recognizing her as human immediately. Connor shifted himself in front of her as subtly as he could just as Simon turned.

"Connor, Taylor," the blonde android smiled at each of them in turn. "You must be here to see Markus. He'll be glad to see you. Follow me."

Simon led them back, past the pulpit, deeper into the church. Taylor didn't comment as he stepped closer to her, acutely aware of the eyes that were following her, both curious and intent. If she noticed at all, she didn't react.

Connor recognized the room that they entered. He had been here with Taylor several nights ago, when Jericho had sunk. Funny how it felt like such a long time ago now. He looked over and caught Taylor staring at him, but she immediately turned away.

"You came back," Markus diverted their attention. His eyes were fixed on Taylor, his mouth twisted into a half-smile. "I half-expected you to fly back to Los Angeles without saying goodbye."

"Well that's hardly fair," Taylor grumbled, gently pulling her hand away from his as she walked forward.

"I've been told recently that you have a propensity for running," he said, shrugging. Connor watched Taylor stiffen, crossing her arms.

"Oh? Who would have told you that?"

"No hard feelings for giving up your secrets, Blondie?" Taylor spun on her heel so fast that she had to correct herself to keep from toppling over. Connor startled as well; he hadn't realized anyone had entered the room behind them.

"Raj!" The blonde rushed over and threw her arms around the newcomer, who was now laughing merrily at her as he hugged her back. Connor stared at the two of them, perplexed, still working out how he had followed them without notice and how long since they'd entered the church they'd been tailed.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Taylor asked as she pulled away again. Now that Connor could get a clear view of the stranger, he could see they were an android. He was scanning for a model and serial number when she continued, "You could have called me."

"Your phone was off." She grimaced at that and he laughed at her again. "I couldn't let you have all of the fun here without me. Plus, I promised your friends some resources. It took a couple of days, I had to wait for Kent's plane to get back from Mexico."

"It's good to see you," she said softly, smiling at him. Raj was still holding on to her elbows, just an arm's length away. He had dark brown eyes, and they were looking her over from head to toe.

"You look like shit."

"Thanks." Taylor just smiled wider. Raj frowned as he finally released her and stepped away. Connor felt like he had been released as well, the tension inside him easing as she turned toward Markus again.

"Have you made your decision, then?" Markus asked. He had leaned against the wall to wait out their reunion, his arms crossed over his chest. There was no concern in his face as he waited for her to respond, no anticipation.

"I have." Taylor took another step closer, squaring her shoulders. "I'll do it. If you'll allow Connor to assist me."

Markus raised his eyebrows. His eyes shifted over her shoulder to look at Connor, and then back to Taylor. "Connor agreed to this?"

"Yes," he spoke up, stepping forward. He stood beside her again, and glanced over before he said, "I'm willing to do it. Taylor will need to be protected, as well. She's human."

Taylor pursed her lips and glared at him. To his surprise, however, she didn't argue. Perhaps she knew as well as he did that Markus would be more amenable if he thought her safety hung in the balance. Markus glanced between them again, the smallest smirk of amusement on his face.

"Very well, if that's what it takes. You have my permission, though I'm not certain you needed it." Markus shifted, standing straight from his spot on the wall and walking closer to them. "For now, I have reached out to President Warren. I'm awaiting a response. Hopefully we can begin talks very soon."

Taylor opened her mouth to say something, then seemed to reconsider. She pressed her lips together instead and nodded. "What about the people here? How much longer are you planning on staying in this abandoned church?"

"That's what I'm working on right now," Markus said, smiling. "I have to admit, your suggestion about CyberLife would be ideal. We could use the supplies. For now, however, your friend Raj has already helped us establish a couple of separate safehouses around the city. We're just in the process of relocating people."

Taylor glanced back at Raj, who was smiling cheekily at them. "If you need me to knock down the doors of the CyberLife building, just say so."

"I believe it would be more beneficial to our cause if we were given the building rather than taking it by force," Markus said, giving him an exasperated look.

"You're right," Taylor agreed. "Anthony Jacobsen might be in jail but there are plenty of other shareholders in CyberLife who already stand to lose everything. These are the same people I've been arguing with for months. No need to rub salt in the wound."

"You two are no fun," Raj complained, shrugging. "Let's hope this plan of yours works quickly, those supplies I brought are drying up fast. Some of these people showing up are in rough shape."

"Anything else I should ask for?" Taylor shook her head at him before turning her attention back to Markus.

"Maybe we should wait to see what they have to say first." Markus said, reluctant. "We probably shouldn't walk in demanding too many things at once."

"I get what you mean." She paused, chewing on her lip for a moment. "What about the other androids? The ones who aren't deviant?" Markus raised his eyebrows, and she continued, "I'm asking because they are certainly going to. You've not made a secret of your ability to convert androids."

"I see." He looked taken aback, but not necessarily surprised.

"People are afraid. Of what comes next." She tilted her head. "Whether you're planning on building an army here. What you really want. You have to be ready to answer that."

"Duly noted." He smiled again, amusement making his lips twitch. "Anything else?"

"Actually, I have a favor I need to ask of you," Taylor said, taking a step forward. "My best friend Rachel Bailey, she's a reporter. She helped with the break-in at Stratford Tower, and she was there at Hart Plaza." She hesitated, glancing away. "I sort of...promised her an exclusive."

"An exclusive?" Markus repeated, frowning.

"Yes." She bit her lip. "Like an interview. With you." She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "It could be beneficial, if people can hear what you have to say."

"I'll do it," Markus smiled at her. Connor could see Taylor's shoulders relax in his peripherals, hear the small sigh that escaped her. "How bad could it be?"

"Well, you haven't met her yet," Taylor said, smiling in return. "Thank you, Markus."


	31. South of the Border

**Ed Sheeran – South of the Border (feat. Camila Cabello)**

Taylor tapped her key against the hotel door and pushed it open. Even though she knew she was imagining it, Connor was a pulsing presence behind her. She was hyper aware of his every movement, her senses pulled taut. Slipping her bag from her shoulder, she dropped it on the bed and turned to face him. Her heart jumped in her throat. Connor had followed just behind and was standing over her, looking expectantly into her face.

"Jesus, Connor." He tilted his head and her lips quirked into a smile despite herself. "One day I'm going to teach you about personal space."

He glanced down, hesitated, and took a step away. Taking a steadying breath in her nose, she fumbled with the buttons on her coat, her fingers clumsy. Connor took the jacket from her hands to hang for her when she managed to get it off. Left with nothing else to do, she lowered herself to sit on the bed, twisting her fingers together in her lap.

She watched him turn back, his brown eyes focusing on her blue. He came over and sat beside her on the bed, making her eyes drop back down to her hands.

"You said there was something else you wanted to talk about," he began, his curiosity not letting him stay quiet for long.

"You know, I didn't want you to agree to help me just so you could act as a bodyguard." She turned her head to the side, looking up at him through her lashes.

"Markus needed a logical reason to agree." Connor said reasonably. "That doesn't change what I said to you. Are you changing the subject?"

"No." She chewed on her lip. "I wanted to clear the air with you." Taylor lifted her head finally, squaring her shoulders. "Because it seems like everyone else has already decided that we're a couple."

His eyes widened a fraction, but she pushed through, even with the heat already starting to creep up her neck. His LED was pulsing a gentle amber. "I care about you. A lot. I just don't know how I feel past that. I know that I tried to kiss you—"

"You're stress levels are very high." Connor said quietly, interrupting. He placed his fingers hesitantly over hers. She realized her heart was quivering in her chest. Gently squeezing her hand, he considered her for a moment in silence before he said, "You said you would help me figure out what my emotions meant."

Her brows furrowed. He took her hand and placed it against his chest. As they both went still, she could feel the vibration of his thirium pump under the palm of her hand. Swallowing, she said, "Yeah."

"Right now," he said, his fingers sliding along her arm. "There's a warm feeling." He reached his other hand up, brushing his thumb featherlight against her jaw. His brown eyes, intent, scanned her face. "Whenever we're together, I feel compelled to touch you."

He leaned closer, his knee pressing into hers. Taylor felt her breaths coming as rapid, shallow gasps. She could picture the words she had said just moments ago, the ones she meant to say next, like wisps of smoke, dissipating. Every part of her in contact with Connor was a firebrand, heat spreading under her skin.

"I wanted to kiss you last night, when you tried to kiss me. But you were drunk." His eyes flickered to her lips. "I want to kiss you now." His voice was a low, deep rumble in her ears, sending a shiver through her. The hand touching her face slid back into her hair, his fingers curling against her scalp. "What do you think it is that I'm feeling?"

The anticipation ripping through her like a cyclone had superseded every other thought in her head. She forgot what the conversation had been about, just wanted him to close that little bit of space and press his mouth over hers. However, those perfect cupid's bow lips were twitching into a smirk.

"W-Well." She tried to refocus past his hand still twisting strands of hair around his finger, tickling against the side of her neck. "Humans might call that attraction."

His fingers stilled against the curve of her neck. He dipped his head closer and she leaned in to meet him. When their lips touched, this time, the world went quiet. She could hear the frantic beat of her heart pounding in her ears, drowning out every other noise.

Connor moved his hand from her arm, his fingers teasing along her waist and pressing into the small of her back, pulling her closer still. She slid her arms around his neck, scooting against him.

The brush of his fingertips against the skin of her spine made her gasp, and he slipped his tongue past her lips, exploring her mouth. His fingers traced up the line of her back, raising goosebumps along her skin.

A knock on the door made Taylor jerk away. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath. She stared into his eyes, their faces still just inches apart. When the knock sounded a second time, she unwrapped her arms from his neck and pulled out of his hold.

She opened the door, blinking at the grinning face that greeted her. "Raj?"

"Hey, Blondie." They stared at each other for a beat, before he said, "You going to invite me in or what?"

"Oh. Yes, come in." She moved to let him inside. "How did you know I was here?"

"It's my job to know things." He glanced around the room as he walked in, then made his way straight for the chair in front of the vanity, nodding at Connor as he passed. "This is cozy. Aren't you usually in the Presidential Suite or whatever?"

"I figured it was a waste of space." She shrugged and came back over to sit next to Connor on the bed, carefully avoiding his gaze. "Is something wrong?"

"Not exactly." Raj glanced between the two of them, his dark eyes squinted with a smile. "Was I interrupting something?"

"Mind your own business and tell me why you came." Taylor rolled her eyes at him, keeping her face carefully blank.

"That may as well be a yes," he said, laughing. "We're practically old friends now, can't I just come by to catch up?"

"In your case, I would have to say no." She huffed. "You only come by when you need something."

"Now that's just rude." Raj placed a hand over his mechanical heart. "I have heard a lot about what's been happening to you out here." He paused, the smile fading from his face. "I'm sorry, Taylor."

"For what?" She couldn't keep the surprise out of her voice as her poker face faltered.

"When I asked you to come out here, I knew that things were tense, but I didn't suspect how dangerous it was. I would never have put your life at risk if I had known." The earnestness in which he spoke gave her pause. She didn't know him to ever be serious.

"I know that. I volunteered, remember?" She gave him an easy smile, hoping he would crack a joke again or tease her. His eyes had drifted away from her face, focused on her bruises. "You aren't responsible for my stepfather, either."

His gaze jumped back to hers. He frowned, another thing she wasn't accustomed to seeing, but didn't comment further. Instead, he changed the subject, "Why did you agree to become the ambassador for Markus?"

The question hung there for a moment. Taylor processed it, uncertain, before she finally asked, "What do you mean?"

"It's not a trick question." Raj shrugged, impassive. "I mean it exactly like it sounds."

"I agreed to help you, didn't I?" She said, still hesitant, waiting for the punch line. "Why are you asking me this?"

"I don't think you should do it." He said.

"Why not?" She blinked, surprised. Raj glanced past her shoulder at Connor, so brief she could have missed it had she not been watching him so closely, before he regarded her again.

"Fact is," he began, "while I did come to you and petition you for help, barring the misjudgment I made in asking you to come to Detroit, I tried my best to keep you away from danger. I never asked you to drive a bus of deviants across the border for me."

"No, but Markus isn't asking me to do anything dangerous either," she protested. He frowned again and her fingers twitched in her lap.

"Listen, I'm on board with this movement. I want Markus to succeed. That's why I'm still here trying to help. However," he leaned forward, "I'm not blind to the reality. Markus led this revolution, and so he has become a symbol. Symbols have power."

"I'm not following." She scrunched her eyebrows in confusion, trying to work out what he was getting at.

"I know more than anyone, and so should you, that there is a large amount of people in this country that do not want deviants to have rights. Nothing about this is going to be easy. Makes the idea of a human shield really attractive."

"That's absurd."

"Oh, don't get me wrong," Raj held up his hands, placating as she bristled. "It's not intentional. Markus is noble. I don't think he would deliberately jeopardize your safety either. But it isn't safe to put your symbol at risk, and he will rationalize it the same way I did. You are human, and therefore safe."

"Raj, you sound insane. Markus is almost as neurotic about my safety as Alex." Unconsciously, she started tapping her fingers against her knee. A black curl fell into his face and he pushed it away impatiently, sitting up straight once more.

"If that were true, he would have told you to go back to California." He gave her an imploring look. "What was Alex's response when you told him about this?"

She thought about how many times Alex had asked her to come home and pressed her lips together, staying quiet. He took that silence for assent to his point and continued, "Listen, Blondie, you've done enough."

"I've done enough," she repeated quietly, her eyes flickering away. "Thanks. I suppose I can rest easy now."

"Taylor—"

"Is this all you came to say?" She turned back, her eyes returning to his. Her face was a smooth mask of indifference, devoid of inflection. When he didn't immediately respond, she said, "I'll take it into consideration."

"Don't be that way, Blondie." Raj's jaw was clenched, and his hands clenched into fists in accord. "I'm trying to look out for you."

"There are not very many people that I would allow to tell me 'don't', Raj, and you are certainly not one of them." Taylor's voice dropped an octave, though her face still remained perfectly still. "Thank you for your concern. Are there any other warnings you would like to pass along?"

His mahogany eyes jumped to Connor for just a second. A grimace twitched at his lips. "No, I believe I've said enough."

He rose to his feet and Taylor did the same, trailing him to the door. Before he could put his hand on the knob, she stopped him. "Did you need anything else from me? Things have to be tight with more deviants coming forward. Is there anything I can do?"

"No." He shook his head, reaching for the knob again, turning his back to her. "Don't worry about that now."

He slipped out of the room before she could say anything else. She stared at the closed door for a second before she turned and leaned against it, letting out a sigh. When she turned her eyes back to Connor, she found him looking at her curiously, his head tilted.

"Your friends seem to spend a lot of time worrying about you," he observed impassively. She swallowed.

"Raj isn't normally like that," she said softly. "I'm not exactly sure he's my friend."

"Your interactions up until this point and the fact that he calls you by a nickname implies friendship," Connor retorted in that matter-of-fact voice.

"Ah, well. I'm glad you cleared that up for me." Her lips curved into a smirk as his brow furrowed, processing her sarcasm.

"Will you consider what he said?" He asked after a moment, his face smoothing again. Taylor blinked.

"About Markus supposedly using me as a human shield? Absolutely not." She paused, her lips pulling down into a frown, taking deliberate steps toward him. "Don't tell me that you're considering it?"

"I must admit," he said reluctantly, "that what he said does contain a certain logic. I was eager to make up for my past transgressions against my people and perhaps didn't consider what other reasons Markus may have had for asking you to do this."

"That's not fair." Her hands clenched at her side. She had crossed the minute distance and now stood over him. "Markus is a good person. He led a completely nonviolent revolution and you think that now he would be so cavalier as to cower behind me and let me draw fire."

"That isn't what I'm saying," Connor backtracked, almost stumbling over his words, his usual flawless composure fraying.

"That's exactly what Raj is saying and you're implying that you agree with him." Taylor shot back, placing her fists on her hips. "Look, maybe there's some truth in there. If I walk into a room full of politicians and soldiers, there's a pretty fair chance that they won't just kill me to end the android uprising. Not only am I human, but I'm quite well-known, I can't just disappear. But implying that Markus asked me to do it because of that is just bullshit."

He stared up at her, eyes wide. His mouth opened, then closed again, uncertainty in his eyes. His LED pulsed a soft yellow. Then, tentatively, he reached his hand up to touch her arm. He slid his fingers down her wrist, over the closed ball of her fist, and pulled her hand closer.

"I don't want you to get hurt again." Taylor felt her fingers relax as Connor pressed his lips against the inside of her wrist. His long lashes fluttered against the skin of her forearm as he lowered his head and kissed her open palm.

"I thought you told Markus you were coming to protect me," she challenged, her heart rate rising as his lips brushed against her skin. He raised his eyes to hers again, looking at her through his eyelashes.

"You should think about yourself more. Your safety is also important, and even I cannot always guarantee it."

"I don't think Markus is going to ask me to do anything dangerous." Her lips quirked into a smile. "I've already proven I don't do very well in a fight."

He wasn't amused. His eyes grazed over the bruise on her forehead, when she had headbutted the concrete back at Eden Club. It had faded to a soft yellow with tinges of blue and purple, the nick still visible along her hairline, but in reminding him she had probably only proven his point.

The trill of her phone broke their staring contest. Taylor reached past him for her bag to answer it, pulling gently out of his grasp. Alex's name was flashing across the screen when she answered it. "You're right across the hallway, did you have to call?"

"I wasn't sure what I might be interrupting," Alex's voice was full of his usual cheerful teasing. Her cheeks warmed as she realized that she had leaned over Connor's shoulder to get to her phone and was still hovering quite close to him. "Anyway, I'm not at the hotel."

"Oh?" Straightening, she turned and retreated to the vanity, feeling Connor's eyes still following her movements.

"No. I knew if I left without making arrangements for you that you would end up staying in that hotel forever. Or end up back in that house again." He sounded more amused that she hadn't risen to the bait.

"Arrangements?" She repeated. "Are you buying me a house, or...?"

"Renting. You'll be pretty close to Jake, actually. If you insist on staying here. I'll have some of your things shipped. On the bright side, real estate value plummeted overnight thanks to the android occupation of the city." He still sounded oddly chipper as he said all of this. She was starting to be concerned about what changed his mood so drastically.

"Guess I should wait to sell the house then, huh?"

"You want to sell it?" That had drained some of the mirth from his voice.

"Well, I'd like to burn it down. Do you think I could play it off as collateral damage to the android uprising?"

"Please don't set anything on fire," he choked back on a laugh. She smiled into the receiver. "Also, we're having dinner at Hank's tonight."

"Oh, really? Hank agreed to that?" She turned back around to find that Connor was indeed looking at her. He had perked up at the mention of the lieutenant.

"Yes, well, I wanted to thank him in person for letting me stay with him when I showed up out of the blue to look for you. I figured an offer of free food wouldn't hurt." For a moment, she imagined Hank and Alex alone together, waiting on word from her or Connor. The image made her chest tighten.

"Alcohol wouldn't hurt if you're really trying to butter him up." She said to distract herself.

"Yeah, whatever, I'll meet you there. Bring your android boyfriend." She groaned, glancing away from Connor's attentive, curious expression.

"This is the real reason I don't answer your calls," she huffed. "Connor lives with Hank."

"Does he? I couldn't tell." As soon as the words were out, she knew he'd set her up for it. The following sound of his laughter was confirmation.

"I hate you so much. I'll meet you there."


	32. Babel

**Mumford & Sons - Babel**

Connor slid out of the taxi and reached his hand back to help Taylor out as well. The cab ride had been quiet. She sent him small glances from time to time but had remained subdued since she informed him that Alex would meet them at Hank's for dinner.

Now she considered his offered hand, a brief hesitation in her countenance before she accepted it, her smaller fingers cold against his synthetic skin. As she stood beside him, he wished he could read her thoughts.

Sometimes he could glean what she was thinking in her expressions. He had spent enough time with her to learn how she furrowed her eyebrows when she was concerned, how her true smiles made her eyes crinkle, how her hands would start to move whenever she became anxious.

Other times, like now, her emotions seemed a complex puzzle without any discernable pattern. She'd kissed him, but had she been about to say that she didn't have any feelings for him? He had interrupted her because he'd been panicked that she may have sent him away.

She had made him stay away at first when she was drunk. When he had comforted her, she had tried to kiss him, and then withdrew again after he held her back. He didn't know if what he felt for Taylor was attraction, like she'd said, or something more than that. The thought of leaving her, of not being able to see her again, terrified him. Now the uncertainly of it weighed on him.

"Connor?" His LED, pulsing its insistent yellow, faded back to blue as he blinked back into the moment. Taylor's eyes were searching his face now, concern in the lines on her brow. He focused on the soft blue-green ring near her pupils. "Is something wrong?"

"No. I am functioning at optimal capacity," he said it without thought, almost an automatic response as he returned to himself. Her lips curled into a humorless smile.

"Not what I meant. You were zoning out on me there." Her breath came out in a small puff of white as she stared up at him. The taxi had already left, not even visible on the street anymore. A light snowfall drifted down from the heavens, flakes of white collecting in the blonde of her hair and along her eyelashes.

"I was...thinking," he said hesitantly, unsure if he should say more than that. The lines in her forehead deepened. Her fingers were still trapped in his grip, he realized, icy to the touch.

"Maybe do that inside where it's warm? We aren't all impervious to the cold," she said it with a touch of amusement, the worry never leaving her face.

"Right." He paused again, unsure whether he should release her hand or not, but she didn't pull away as he tugged her in the direction of the house.

Hank had given him his own key. He claimed it was to prevent any more unceremonious entrances through the windows, but he'd also qualified it with permission to come and go as he pleased. Connor removed said key from his jacket pocket and opened the front door to usher the now shivering Taylor into the heated interior.

He heard the familiar sound of Sumo's deep, booming bark from somewhere in the kitchen. In the time it took him to turn around and shut the front door, the barking was penetrated by a sudden, high-pitched squeal. He whipped back around to find Taylor on the floor, the bulk of the large St. Bernard standing over her.

"Sumo!" Connor moved to drag the dog off of her, but the blonde had collapsed into a fit of giggles as the dog licked her in the face. His tail was wagging back and forth with enthusiasm as Taylor reached up to scratch behind his ears.

"Hello to you, too." Connor finally stepped forward again, grabbing Sumo's collar and pulling him backwards enough so that she could regain her footing. She rubbed at her face with the sleeve of her coat, then blinked at him. "Did I get all of the drool?"

Connor looked up into her face, still crouched over the excited Sumo, holding him by the collar. She was smiling, and it took him an extra second to say, "Yes."

"Sumo, sit!" The St. Bernard stilled at the sound of Hank's voice and his butt hit the floor, though his tail was still wagging erratically as he looked to his owner. Hank took in the three of them as he stood at the end of the hallway, his hands on his hips. "You can let him go, Connor."

Connor slowly relaxed his fingers and removed them from Sumo's collar, standing. The dog stayed obediently in place, though he was still giving Taylor a look that said he was ready to pounce again. Hank huffed in amusement.

"Sorry, kid, he has a thing for the ladies." Taylor snorted, and then covered her mouth with a hand to hide her laughter as Hank crossed the room and glared down at his dog. He pointed a finger toward the kitchen. "Go lay down."

Sumo put his ears down and sauntered away while Taylor stifled her laughter. "Is that how you pick up women? Rescue them from your own dog?"

"Don't start," he warned, though he still sounded amused. "I already have to play host to a bunch of unwanted guests."

"Poor thing. Alex really is impossible to say no to once his mind is made up." Taylor grinned at him.

"No kidding. Probably comes in handy dealing with you all the time." Hank smirked at her, but she just laughed again as she started pulling off her coat.

"You're not wrong." Connor watched the two of them banter back and forth, seemingly at ease. Hank didn't mention any of the things that had happened to Taylor in the interim of their last meetings, her unceremonious exit from the investigation, her part in the android revolution, even the teasing of a friendship with Gavin Reed.

His LED flickered as he wondered if Hank could sense the vague hint of turbulent emotions lurking just under the thin veneer of her smile. Maybe it was easier for the lieutenant to detect because he was also a detective, or also human, or also had his fair share of emotional trauma.

Whatever the case, he didn't bring up a single offense. He just let her wander around the living room looking at his books and asking questions about his things. She paused in front of his record player, her fingers brushing over the old vinyl in their sleeves almost reverently.

Hank was surprised when she recognized the music. She reminded him sardonically that her mother had been a musician. They spent the next few minutes talking about jazz without a sarcastic comment between them, discussing favorite artists and songs while Connor looked on in near disbelief.

The spell was broken by a knock on the door. Connor, still standing a few paces away, moved to open it. Alex stood on the threshold, his cheeks rosy in the cold, arms laden with pizza boxes.

"You wouldn't believe how many pizza joints I had to call to find somebody still serving pizza in this town. I thought I was going to have to drive outside of Detroit city limits." He sighed heavily as he stepped into the warmth of the house and inclined his head back outside. "There's a case of beer in the car, will you grab it?"

Connor nodded, venturing outside. The car in question had been pulled up onto the curb with the door to the passenger side still hanging open. No doubt Alex had rented it since it clearly wasn't an automated taxi. The snow was falling heavier now, the temperature still dropping as he collected the case of beer and closed the car door with his foot.

The bottles clinked together softly as he made his way back up the walkway and through the door. He followed the sounds of speech into the kitchen, where Alex had placed the pizza boxes on the counter.

Connor placed the case next to them and watched Hank pulling plates from the cabinets. As he glanced around the kitchen, he realized the lieutenant had put in a valiant effort to clean up in anticipation of his 'unwanted guests.'

"You sure you're okay?" He startled. Taylor had appeared at his elbow. She made a show of opening the case of beer and grabbing several bottles to carry to the fridge. When she came back to grab a few more bottles, she elaborated, "You still seem distracted."

"You don't need to worry about me," he said softly. Taylor huffed a laugh through her nose but didn't say anything in response. He recalled what she'd said to him before, that she worried about him because they were friends. It was one of the new things that came with his emotions that he hadn't completely reconciled.

"Bring a couple of those over here." Hank said this over his shoulder as he placed plates on the counter beside the pizzas. Taylor obliged, handing both him and Alex a bottle. His small table only had two chairs, so they piled the food onto their plates and filed to the living room.

"What are we going to watch?" Taylor asked as she settled on the floor in front of the couch, crossing her legs in front of her. "Michigan is playing Ohio State. Jake said he was going to the game."

Connor remembered the blue and yellow room he had stumbled into at Taylor's old house, covered in Michigan Wolverine posters and memorabilia. Alex sat on the couch next to Taylor's left shoulder while Hank took the chair, so Connor took the other spot on the couch. Hank shrugged and flipped on the TV, changing channels until he found the football game.

As the game played, Connor downloaded the rules and information so he would understand what was happening on the screen. Even after he understood the rules of the game, he couldn't quite follow the conversation about certain players versus their previous years' athletes and prospects for a national title between Hank and Alex.

"How's the DPD?" Taylor asked from her spot on the floor. The now empty plate rested against her thighs and she was taking occasional sips of the beer in her right hand. Hank regarded her, seeming to decide his answer, before he just shrugged.

"Quiet." She continued to stare at him, her eyebrows raised. He sighed. "They're saying less than half of the population stayed after the evacuation. Less people, less homicide."

Alex stood and collected their plates. He returned a moment later with another round of beers. On his heels came Sumo, padding softly behind. He shamelessly looked at Hank before creeping closer and placing his large shaggy head on Taylor's knees.

She dug her fingers into the fur on the back of his neck without a second thought. His tail slapped against the floor with each stroke of her hand. Hank rolled his eyes but didn't say anything to reprimand him.

Connor offered to get the next round for them. Taylor handed her bottle up to him, and when their fingers brushed together, she smiled. "I don't want another. Thanks, Connor."

He retreated to the kitchen. When he returned, Taylor had curled onto the floor next Sumo, her head resting on a pillow from the couch. She looked like she was already starting to doze off despite the conversation still going on over her head.

Handing Hank and Alex their drinks, he settled back on the couch and concentrated on trying to follow the game.

* * *

Connor dipped his hand back into the warm water, swirling his fingers in search of a plate to wash. He could still hear the television from the other room and the ongoing conversation, but he felt oddly out of place.

"Where's the towels?" He turned his head. Taylor smiled up at him. "It's not fair that you're in here cleaning up after the unwelcome house guests after all."

He inclined his head toward the drawer to her right. She pulled one of the towels out and posted up at the counter next to him. Sumo had decided to curl up at Hank's feet rather than follow the blonde into the kitchen.

"I don't require any assistance," he said, uncertain, his fingers finally closing around the edge of a plate. "I don't mind."

"Will it make you feel better if I tell you I just wanted to come admire your arms?" Connor blinked. He looked down to where he had rolled up his sleeves while Taylor started to laugh. She nudged him with her elbow. "I was also tired of listening to Hank and Alex argue about whether basketball or football was better."

Now that he focused, he could hear the two men still debating from the next room. He passed her the plate. They washed and dried in silence for a few minutes.

"Do you think you will want to be a detective when all of this is done?" Connor paused in handing her the last plate, well short. She reached the rest of the way and took it from him. "You could be Hank's partner for real."

"I would like that." He glanced over his shoulder at the lieutenant, still passionately arguing the finer points of basketball to Alex. His eyes jumped back as Taylor sat the dried plate in the rack. "I confess I haven't thought that far ahead."

Her lips twitched as she wiped her hands dry. Leaning one hip against the counter, she turned to face him. "I was only going to say, before you interrupted me," her eyes flickered over his face, settling on his eyes, "that I think you need time."

"Time?" He felt his brows drawing down. She nodded, a few strands of hair falling across her forehead. He resisted the urge to reach up and tuck them back into place. Every word about his errant desire to touch her had been honest, and he couldn't help but notice she was only standing inches away now.

Before, when he had only been a machine, he had touched her. On multiple occasions. She had been in his arms when they danced together, when he carried her away from that crime scene, the night on Ambassador Bridge. Even then his programming had brought him back to the blonde again and again, on the premise of her import to the case.

When he became deviant, the first time his synthetic skin came into contact with Taylor's human, he realized he had never felt anything before. Not really. As she laid against him, her human heart beating against his mechanical one, he thought he may have started to understand what it meant to be alive.

Part of him had been searching for that moment ever since she had pulled away. Each time he brushed against her skin and felt her pulse rising in response, he only craved it more.

"Just, you should at least be able to figure out who you are." Connor realized he had been staring at her in silence since she spoke a moment ago. She bit her lip. He glanced at the flash of her teeth against the soft pink of her bottom lip.

"Aren't you taking me to find new clothes tomorrow?" His lips angled into a smirk at the look of surprise that came over her face. "Can't I figure it out with you?"

Her face softened. An emotion he couldn't place clouded her eyes before she turned them downward. "Sure, Connor."

"You ready to go?" They both looked up. Alex stood in the entrance of the kitchen with his gaze focused on Taylor. "I have an early flight. I also think if I argue with Hank any longer, we might not be friends anymore."

"You lasted quite a while. I'm impressed." She pushed away from the counter and walked to him. Connor watched her go, feeling like the conversation wasn't over. She turned back suddenly, her lips stretching into a smile. "I'll see you tomorrow, Connor."

He felt his thirium pump falter. He quickly ran a self-test to make sure he wasn't malfunctioning, but as Taylor turned back around to leave and his tests revealed no abnormalities, he wondered if he wasn't just reacting to her. Alex was looking at him as the blonde walked past with a smile on his face that suggested he knew more than Connor did.

"Good night, Connor." The smile never wavered as he stuck his hands in his pockets and followed Taylor out.

* * *

Taylor buckled her seatbelt as the engine rumbled to life. The whole car shuddered with horsepower before Alex shifted gears and eased them onto the road. She wondered what had possessed her father to want a car like this.

"Thanks for letting me borrow the car." She shifted her gaze from the window. Alex's green eyes were on the road, but traffic was scarce. His attention kept flickering toward her.

"No problem." When she looked down, she realized she was tapping her fingers against her thigh. Fisting both hands, she tucked them against her legs, frowning.

"Something on your mind?" Her eyes jumped back to his face, but he was staring out through the windshield. "Someone?"

She turned her head back to the window, her frown deepening. Taking a breath in her nose, she said, "I was thinking about my dad."

The resulting silence wasn't as satisfying as she'd anticipated. Her shoulders slumped forward and she curled in on herself subconsciously. "What do you think my life would have been like if he hadn't died? It's pointless to think about it, I know."

"We probably wouldn't have met." Alex said quietly. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel.

"I guess we do have Anthony to thank for that. And my mom." She leaned her head against the window, feeling the cold seeping through the glass. Closing her eyes, she listened to the notes of the pop song coming out of the old speakers. Just as the exhaustion was settling into her bones, dragging her down into sleep, she heard Alex's voice again.

"Connor really likes you." He almost seemed to be talking to himself. She turned back from the window, opening her eyes. He was still staring at the road ahead, but as she continued to look at him, wide-eyed, he finally glanced her way. "What?"

"Nothing." She refused to engage him. He only wanted to tease her again and she wouldn't indulge him this time. Instead she rubbed her chilled fingers together and held them closer to the heat blowing out of the vents.

"I'm serious. You can lie to me all you want about not having feelings, but it doesn't seem like Connor has the same reservations. It's written all over his face." Taylor could sense the warmth in her cheeks and tried to attribute it to the heater blasting air at her. Every conversation apparently would circle back to this eventually.

"You're so full of it," she huffed.

"What are you so afraid of, anyway?" Her fingers stopped wriggling in front of the vent. She bit into her bottom lip, worked it between her teeth as she thought. Was she afraid? Alex had a habit of seeing the truth in her, even when she couldn't.

Still, there was no answer to offer. Connor didn't frighten her. She felt safer with him, in fact, than she probably should have given how long they had known each other. How long he had been deviant. How long his motives for being close to her didn't involve what information she had to offer.

"Maybe I am just getting old, but I'd like to see you be happy." He angled them into a turn that brought them into the parking garage below the hotel. Alex sighed as he pulled into one of the dozens of empty spaces near the elevators. "I don't so much care about the circumstances anymore."

"Who says I haven't been happy?" The idling of the engine was the purring of a jungle cat, and when Alex flipped the key and pulled it from the ignition, the world sounded hollow. He shot her a look before he exited the car, his lips curving. Not a smile. Almost a grimace.

When she closed her door, the sound echoed through the parking garage. So did her footsteps, hurried as she caught up with him at the doors of the elevator. They stood in the freezing Detroit air, unnaturally silent, until she began, "You don't have to always do that."

"Do what?" His voice became tense. The last time they'd come close to this subject, they had fought. The elevator pinged softly, and he held the door open for her while she stepped inside. He pressed the button for their floor as the doors slid shut.

"I'm fighting with this fear all of the time." She hesitated. Swallowed. The words felt thick and impossible, but she forced them up like bile. "I know sometimes I'm just pretending to be okay. Most of the time." Her hands started clenching in the pockets of her coat. Unclenching. She squeezed her eyes shut. "I just wish sometimes that you would pretend, too."

The ding of the elevator let her know that they had arrived. The doors slid open and she practically leapt out, digging into her pockets for the hotel key as she walked. When she came to a stop before her door, however, she felt Alex's hand on her arm.

"Taylor, stop for a second." She tried to pull away. Her back hit the door and his other hand curled around her opposite arm, holding her in place. A shudder of breath trembled in her throat, her brittle attempt at holding back the sob rattling through her chest. The last thing she wanted to do right now was cry in front of him.

"I'm not going to pretend. I don't care if you're a mess. I don't care how bad it gets. How many people do you think pretended your mom was okay?" The tears squeezed from the corners of her eyes and left hot, salty trails down her cheeks. The first sob the broke loose felt like shards of glass scraping against her throat.

Alex pulled her against his chest, circled her shoulders with both arms. He squeezed her, and the strength in his arms steadied her. "I know that you're trying. I just want you to be honest with me. That's it."

"I would never do it." Muffled against his coat, voice thick with tears, she didn't know if he could understand a word she was saying. "No matter how bad it gets. I would never kill myself."

He sucked in a breath, went very still. He definitely heard her. Then he relaxed around her, releasing his breath in a sigh. "I know."

Gently pulling away, he took the room key from her clenched fingers and tapped it against the lock. He held the door for her while she stumbled inside, rubbing at her tears. Glancing around the room, he said, "I really do have an early flight. You should get some sleep. And pack. You should be able to move in the next day or so

He gave her one last, hard look before he left her there. Taylor slid out of her coat and slung it over the chair before she retreated to the bathroom. Turning on the tap for the sink, she scrubbed her face until the tearstains were gone, until she felt clean again.

When she emerged from the bathroom in her pajamas a while later, she climbed directly into the nest of pillows and pulled the covers up to her chin. The quiet settled in around her with the comforter and she clicked the light next to the bed off. The room plunged into darkness. She stared up toward the ceiling, sighing, before rolling onto her side.

She laid there for a long time wondering why she felt unsettled. After the fourth time she rolled over, she realized it was Connor's absence that was bothering her. He had been with her almost every night. Groaning into the pillow, she rolled over again and tried to let her exhaustion pull her into sleep.


	33. Dress

**Taylor Swift - Dress**

Connor knocked briskly on the door of Taylor's hotel room and waited. The hallway was quiet. He had passed no one on his way up aside from the receptionist android at the desk. The current time was 0803, early by most standards, but he had waited as long as he could manage before heading over.

The seconds continued to tick by. He listened but couldn't make out any sounds on the other side of the door. Could she have left the building already? He didn't think it likely that she would not have waited for him. A quick scan told him that the pipes were not active; she wasn't in the shower.

He knocked again, harder, and shifted on his feet. The stillness in the hallway suddenly felt ominous. He allowed another minute to pass while he suddenly gained an appreciation for why Taylor always moved her hands when she was anxious.

Connor raised a hand against the lock on the door. Hesitated. Then his human skin peeled away to reveal his white android hand beneath, which he pressed into the lock. It took a matter of seconds to hack, and the door clicked open.

Maybe he was being paranoid, but he had to be certain. Hadn't he promised to keep her safe? Alex must have left mere hours ago, he can't have failed already. He stepped into the room. The door swung shut behind him.

The television was on, he noted first, playing the news on low just as it had been the day before. Pillows dotted the bed, covers lying twisted and askew. The bathroom door stood slightly ajar, but no one was moving inside.

As he stepped further in, he noticed her coat lying across the vanity chair. His brow furrowed softly. The current outside temperature warranted the outerwear. He glanced around, scanning, looking for anything out of place. A sign of struggle.

His feet carried him toward the bathroom. He pushed the door inward until it bounced lightly against the wall. Empty. No water collected in the shower drain. None in the sink either. Her clothes from the previous day were in a small heap on the floor. Wherever she had gone, she hadn't stopped to get ready.

Stepping back into the room, he walked slowly toward the door again, scanning more closely for some clue. A fragment of DNA that wasn't hers. Something that didn't belong. His LED was flickering a deep red as he searched.

The knob rattled. He had made it to just a few feet away from the door, and his head shot up instantly at the sound. The door swung inward and Taylor appeared. She was wearing a matching set of athletic wear, kicking off her running shoes as she stepped inside.

When she finally looked up and saw him standing there, she screamed. He startled as she stumbled backwards into the door, her chest heaving. She stared at him and he could see her processing, the change in her expression as she realized it was him.

"Jesus Christ, Connor!" Pushing off the door, she stalked closer to him, glaring. "How the hell did you get in here? You nearly gave me a heart attack."

Running, it dawned on him. Taylor liked to run in the morning. Her cheeks were rosy with exertion. The blonde hair she had pulled into a ponytail had started to escape its bonds, and locks were sticking to her skin with sweat. He could trace beads of perspiration slipping down her face, her neck, the hollow of her throat. He swallowed.

"I apologize," he said, glancing away. "When you didn't answer the door, I became concerned. I hacked the lock on the door."

She sighed in exasperation and moved to step around him. A bottle of water stood sentinel on the nightstand, and she headed for that first. She chugged it as she went for her suitcase to dig for clean clothes.

"I didn't expect you this early," she said as she tossed a pair of jeans toward the bed. She didn't look at him as she kept digging for something to wear. "You know it's far too early to go shopping, right?" A shirt went sailing over to join the pants. "Not that I don't enjoy your company."

She finally paused, smiling over at him. He hesitated, "I'm sorry. It is rather early. I can come back later."

"Don't be ridiculous. You're welcome to stay as long as you like." She waved him off as she pulled a set of undergarments from her bag. He immediately averted his gaze, suddenly awkward. "You'll have to wait while I shower, though."

"Of course." He didn't turn around, even though he could hear her moving around the room now. Until the bathroom door clicked shut, he kept his brown eyes glued to the wall beside him.

* * *

"That looks open." Taylor pointed toward the shop just ahead. The two of them had been walking for a while, past darkened windows and closed signs. They had managed to find someplace for her to eat breakfast. She had insisted she would be incorrigible if she didn't eat after running. Finding anything open that sold clothing had been a challenge thus far.

Connor followed the direction of her finger and spotted the brightly lit display window across the street. A sign in minimalist typeface above the glass doors read 'Monk's Formal Attire'. She turned to him with a smile.

"Well, we can get you some new suits anyway." They stood waiting at the crosswalk, even though the traffic hardly warranted it. Taylor stuck her hands back into her pockets, glancing up at the overcast sky. The chill in the air suggested snow before the day was out, she just hoped to be tucked inside by then.

"They might know of something else nearby that's open," she said as the light finally turned, allowing them to cross. Connor nodded. She watched him in her peripherals as they made their way down the sidewalk. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes." He said it with no hesitation. Still, he had been acting strangely all morning. Quiet, just like the night before, evasive. Maybe she had created the silence herself, fumbling over words, trying to create distance.

He held the door for her, and she stepped into the shop, still thinking about how she couldn't ever say the right thing. Not when Connor insisted, when he looked into her eyes and said he wanted to stay with her. What could she say?

"Good morning!" A falsetto toned voice rang from somewhere beyond the counter. The two of them stared at each other in confusion, not seeing anyone in the shop. A rustling sound started before the door to the backroom popped open, bouncing off of the opposite wall and nearly crashing into the man who had opened it.

An older gentleman stepped onto the floor of the salesroom, peering around for them over a pair of pince-nez spectacles perched on his hooked nose. All skeleton and skin he appeared, at least a few inches taller than Connor with only two puffs of white hair left hovering above each ear.

"Ah, welcome, welcome! I was growing bored rearranging the bowties. Alistair Monk at your service." He came closer, extending his hand to them with an enthusiastic smile. His face was ancient, a map of lines and crevices that deepened with each expression. Connor accepted his handshake and he pumped his hand with gusto.

"Are you the owner?" Taylor asked, her face twitching with mirth as her companion stared in puzzlement. Alistair turned his attentions to her next. When their eyes met, she realized his were a steely grey.

"Owner, proprietor, and just recently promoted to salesperson." He smiled cheekily at her as he took her hand. "This android business has apparently run off a few of my employees. There was no one else to cover their shifts, so..."

"You stepped up. Very admirable." Taylor was still smiling when he released her hand. He was infectious. "My name is Taylor, and this is Connor."

"Delighted. What brings you in?" He glanced between them over his spectacles, his eyes twinkling. "Wedding, perhaps? I do love weddings."

"Um," she opened her mouth and closed it again, floundering. Her face felt hot, but she forced herself to say, without looking at Connor, "Actually, my friend here would like to try on some suits. And I'm just browsing. I guess."

"Well then, right this way. I'll take your measurements." Connor sent her a fleeting look of doubt before he was led away. A chuckle escaped her before she turned to survey the rest of the store.

Aside from a substantial arrangement of men's formal wear, there was indeed a large selection of women's gowns as well. She certainly didn't need any more dresses, though most of the pieces she wore were just loans for events. A shiny ball gown wouldn't keep her warm in the Detroit winter, either.

The rack of ties drew her attention, and she started picking over the patterns distractedly. The faint sound of Alistair's chattering filtered from the back with Connor's infrequent and short responses punctuating. Her lips curved as her fingers traced the edge of a deep blue tie. At first glance the small spots looked like polka dots, but on closer inspection were actually tiny dogs.

Picking it up, she ventured further on, into the rows of dresses. Somehow, she was drawn toward the row of white lace and silk. Her fingers traced the pearl collar of one of the gowns as she thought of her mother's wedding. The second one, to Anthony Jacobsen, where she had been the flower girl.

A giant, glamorous affair, she remembered. Anthony had insisted on it. She had worn a pink satin gown and had her hair curled, scattering rose petals down the aisle of the church. Jake had been the ringbearer. The reception had been equally extravagant.

At eight years old, she had been both out of place and right at home. Intoxicated adults wandered up to her all night asking her to sing the _Chloe _theme song, indulgent at everything she said. In Hollywood, everything always played out like a very elaborate stage setting where the people always knew their roles.

Anthony had approached her for the first time that night, cornered her alone by a stairwell to tell her how pretty she looked in her dress. Since their very first meeting, she'd done her best to avoid him at all cost. A darkened corner at a party had been her first true taste of panic.

"Taylor?" She turned, her fingers falling away from the pearls. Connor stood at the end of the aisle, watching her with furrowed brows. She must have been lost in her thoughts for a while, for he had changed into a new suit. Simple, tapered black, absent of a blue band, of a logo, of his model number.

"How do you feel?" He looked down at his clothes, his features smoothing once more. Taylor stepped closer to him, away from the wedding dresses, nervous to be caught amongst them though she wasn't sure why.

"Strange." He lifted his dark brown eyes to her blue and smiled a bit uncertainly. "I don't feel anxious like I did before, but it is unsettling. I think I will have to adjust."

"Well, it looks good on you." She returned his smile and held out the tie toward him. "I found something else."

Connor glanced at the tie curiously, his LED flickering. When he noticed the pattern, his eyes widened just a fraction. Her smile broadened as she took another step toward him, reaching for his tie.

"I can wear this?" He watched her loosen his tie and pull it free, sliding the blue one around his neck in its place. Her fingers brushed against his collar as she tied it. With a final tug. She pulled it into place.

"I don't see why not. Isn't the point of this to wear whatever you want?" Taylor released the tie, surveying her handiwork with a nod. "It suits you. It's a shame they don't look like Sumo."

"I like it." He touched the edge of the tie, and then looked up at her again. The smile that touched his face was soft, slight, and sent her heart stumbling. "Thank you."

"Ah, there you are. What do you think?" She jumped as Alistair's cheerful tone sounded from the aisle behind her. They must have both been looking for her, she realized, after she'd wandered off into the store.

"You do impeccable work." She conceded, turning.

"I'm glad that you agree." He smiled at her over his spectacles. "Is anything out here catching your eye?"

Taylor again felt her presence in the wedding section acutely, though Alistair didn't point it out as he waited for her response. "I don't really need any formal wear per se. But you've done such a great job, how can I say no?"

"I was hoping you'd say that. I have just the thing in mind." Alistair offered her an arm, which she accepted, and led her back through the aisles, motioning for Connor to follow. He deposited the both of them near the fitting rooms.

He reached for the tape measure and began to take her measurements. Taylor stood perfectly still and straight while he did so, holding her arms out for him while he moved around her. She noticed he didn't bother to write anything down. He glanced over her, a touch of amusement in his features.

"Ballet?" He asked. She blinked and followed the direction of his gaze to her feet. The heels were touching, feet pointed outward. First position.

"When I was younger. Habit," she said, shifting so they were parallel once more.

"Why did you stop?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

"I got older. Grew hips." She gave him a self-deprecating smile. "I had enough going on in my life at the time. I didn't want to worry about whether I was the right size to be a prima ballerina."

"That's a shame."

"I didn't give up dancing." She shrugged offhandedly. "I just moved on to other kinds."

"I'll be back," He patted her arm before retreating back into the aisles. Taylor turned to glance at Connor. He had taken a seat in one of the chairs to the side. One hand one rested against his knee, but the other was still touching his tie. His hickory eyes were fixed on it, though she couldn't imagine he hadn't been listening in on the conversation.

She took a moment, again, to appreciate his features. Not only because he was attractive, she'd admitted that on their first meeting. No, something in Connor's face, in the way his expressions shifted, how his eyes stayed so intent. Every movement he made was so incredibly _human_. Without that glowing circle of blue on his temple, there would be no way to tell him apart.

Even before he was deviant, he had been different from other androids. She knew it instinctively and had been drawn to it then. Because a part of her knew that if he belonged to CyberLife, he was safe. Maybe that's why, now that he was deviant, free to feel whatever he wanted to, she was afraid.

Connor glanced up, caught her gaze and held it. That familiar ache bloomed in her chest and she wondered if this is what he meant when he told her that he felt compelled to touch her. She thought of the warmth of his body, the soft press of his lips, the safety in his arms. How her heart had trembled as his fingers traced along her skin.

"Here you are." Alistair appeared at her shoulder, looming unintentionally with his impressive stature. He hurried her toward the dressing room with the gown before she could get a proper look, just a glimpse of blue before he was pushing her into the small room. The door shut with an audible click. "Let me know if you need assistance, my dear."

Taylor huffed, hanging the dress on a hook by the mirror so she could see what he had chosen. The dress was a perfect blue to complement the tie she picked for Connor, with long sleeves and a beaded, square neckline. The fabric was rich, heavy velvet with a long slit up the left leg.

Certainly not her usual flashy style, but elegant. She started pulling off articles of clothing while her mind fell back into the thoughts that Alistair had unwittingly interrupted. Faintly the sound of his voice could be heard murmuring through the dressing room door, once again sparingly interrupted by Connor's responses.

She stepped into the gown, her mind still spinning in circles. So much had happened in the span of just a couple of weeks that she never really gave it serious thought, no matter how many times the people around her kept pointing it out. Reaching around, she struggled with the zipper as she struggled with the thought, turning it over and over.

With the zipper secure, Taylor turned and stared at her own blue eyes in the mirror. She couldn't look down at the dress. Her eyes were stuck on the distressed shock etched into her expression.

She was in love with Connor.

The knock on the dressing room door made her flinch. Alistair's voice came from the other side, "Is everything okay?"

_No_. She finally managed to spare a glance at the dress. Beautiful, and it fit like a glove of course. All she wanted to do now was crawl into a bed somewhere and rethink her life choices. Definitely not walk out of this dressing room and face Connor.

She took a deep breath, in through her nose, and opened the door. Alistair beamed down at her. "Perfect."

When he led her back out to the seating area, she forced herself to follow. Connor stood when they approached, but she couldn't look at his face, not with this new realization tumbling around inside her skull. Alistair stood her beside him, saving her the indignity of avoiding eye contact.

"Excellent. The two of you make a handsome couple." This brought her eyes up. Alistair was smiling. Connor was looking at her, and for once she couldn't read his expression. His LED was its placid blue.

"We'll take them. Connor will need more than one suit." This had the desired effect. Alistair busied himself with picking new patterns and colors, Connor his reluctant victim. Taylor retreated back to the dressing room to change out of the dress.

She emerged pulling her coat back over her shoulders. Trailing the now familiar sound of Alistair's voice, she found the two of them comparing ties and pocket squares. Connor seemed more relaxed in the older man's presence than he had been initially. She approached them hesitantly, but Connor turned immediately when he heard her coming closer.

"I believe we're done here, my dear." Alistair followed Connor's gaze and smiled at her. "Unless you would like to shop some more?"

"No, I don't think so." Taylor tried to look away from Connor's chocolate eyes, but she was trapped in his gaze, in her feelings.

"Well, Connor, let's have you change, and I can get all of this packaged up." Mercifully, he turned away. While they headed back, she went toward the counter. Groaning, she dropped her head in her hands.

"Now what, Taylor," she muttered. This had been a lot easier when she was in denial, or blissful ignorance, or whatever delusion she had broken around herself. Now she would have to face it. Connor, who could read ever beat of her heart and lie that she told, would know.

The persistent trill of her phone cut suddenly through her thoughts. She didn't know if it had been ringing for a while, but she dug it out of her coat pocket. The screen showed a private number. Her brow creased, but she slid the icon to answer, knowing if she hesitated much longer that she would miss the call.

"Hello?"

"Taylor Kolbeck," the voice on the line stated clearly. Taylor didn't recognize it immediately, but that didn't mean much in her line of work.

"Yes. Who is this?" She shifted, propping her elbows on the counter and resting the phone against the crook of her neck.

"My name is Alexis Headley." The phone almost slid from her shoulder and she had to scramble to press it back to her ear. Her heart started to pound. "I'm the Secretary of Homeland Security."

"I know who you are," she breathed. A huff of laughter sounded on the other end of the line.

"I'm sure that I have to explain who I am far more often than you do." The subtle tone of condescension was so familiar that she barely paid it any attention. "I received your number after I reached out to the leader of the android revolution, Markus. I was informed that you are their new ambassador, along with an RK800 formerly designated to the Detroit Police Department."

"That's correct." Her voice cracked on the last syllable and she swallowed. Footsteps behind her let her know that Alistair and Connor were returning again. She glanced up and then walked to the side, hunched over the phone.

"Well, Miss Kolbeck, I would like to formally invite you to Washington D.C., along with Markus and this RK800. Detroit has managed to stay relatively safe for the moment, but I would rather not waste time in getting all of this resolved."

Her teeth clenched. She took a deep breath in through her nose and closed her eyes. "Markus will not be coming. There is a lot of work to do here in Detroit." She paused, letting it sink in, wondering how much she should say. "_Connor _and I will come, but I would like something in return."

"It's a little early to be making demands, Miss Kolbeck." Again, her voice on the line came across as apathetic. No derision, no anger.

"And yet." Taylor shifted on her feet. "I would like to request requisitioning the CyberLife building as a temporary base of operations."

"With all due respect, Miss Kolbeck, I am Secretary of Homeland Security. I do not have the authority to grant you possession of private corporations." This time she could hear the irritation creeping in.

"I'm not asking for a corporation. Just one building." Again, she hesitated. She didn't want to overstep. But then again, Markus and the others had put her in this position, for better or for worse.

"Consider it a gesture of goodwill. There are a lot of androids here. More and more refugees show up every day. When people start to return to Detroit, it's not going to make any of this easier if they find deviant androids squatting in their homes."

Silence permeated the connection for almost a minute. Her chest started to hurt, and she realized she was holding her breath.

"Very well, I will see what I can do. If you will be ready to fly out."

"I will speak with Markus." The line went dead. The quiet became the emptiness of no one there rather than no one speaking, and when she pulled the phone from her ear, she saw that Secretary Headley had indeed hung up on her.

"Are you okay?" Connor's fingers brushed against her shoulder and she jumped. He retracted his hand but hovered close to her as she turned, his brows drawn down over his eyes while he watched her. She glanced between him and the phone in her hand before tucking it back into her coat pocket.

"I'm okay. I'll tell you later." Taylor was conscious of Alistair watching them curiously from the counter. He was ringing up their purchases at the same time, but she didn't want to reveal too much in front of a near stranger no matter how personable and friendly he had been.

She returned to the counter with Connor trailing behind her. Alistair was peering at her over his pince-nez as he wrapped their things in tissue, garment bags, and boxes. "I feel as though I may be missing something here."

"You know, work follows wherever you go. I was going to ask you what else might be open but I'm afraid our shopping trip might be over for the day." She smiled nonchalantly. "I appreciate you being here, though."

"At 84 years young, no less." He gave her another smile. Taylor felt her eyes widen, and it was all she could do to keep her jaw from dropping. His hands paused in their work as he looked between the two of them, considering. "You know, I was ten years old when they passed the Civil Rights Act."

She glanced at Connor, almost reflexively. Connor had turned to her as well, clearly surprised. Neither of them knew what to say. "It was a moment that I certainly will never forget. I never thought that I might get to see something like that happening again in my lifetime."

"It will." Taylor said softly. "It's going to happen."

"I may be old, my dear, but that much I do know."


	34. The Archer

**Taylor Swift – The Archer**

Connor opened the door for Taylor, watching as she slid into car without looking at him. He followed her into the backseat, still observing while she sent text messages on her phone. He had been measuring her stress levels since the clothing store. Whatever had happened, he couldn't puzzle it out, but her stress levels continued to fluctuate even now, higher than usual.

"Rachel is going to meet us at the church, to do her interview with Markus," she told him, still tapping away. Finally, she closed the screen and tucked the device in her pocket. When she turned her head toward him, however, she still wasn't looking in his eyes. "That was the Secretary of Homeland Security that called me just now. Alexis Headley."

"I overheard some of the conversation," he admitted. Her lips quirked into an amused smile. Guilty, he felt like he had to explain himself. "Your stress levels were rising. I was concerned. I only heard something about squatting and that you would talk to Markus."

"It's okay." Her smile widened at his fumbled explanation. "I don't mind. It would seem that they want the two of us to go to Washington D.C., to represent androids in whatever talks they intend to have."

"Markus knows about this?"

"He gave them my number, so I think he knows as much as I do." She turned back to the window. "I asked her to give Markus the CyberLife tower."

Connor didn't say anything at first. He took long enough responding that she shifted to face him again, this time finding his eyes. Tension lined her face, caused small lines to form around her mouth and on her forehead.

He reached across the seat and placed his hand over her fingers, diligently tapping against her knee. They stilled, but she tensed. Even though she didn't pull away, he released her. He was getting the sense that whatever was bothering her had to do with him, though he still wasn't sure what he had done.

"What did she say?" He asked, instead of what he wanted to. Taylor was staring at his hand still, which he had placed back on his knee.

"'I will see what I can do'." Her blue eyes flickered up to his face again. He could feel her stress levels still fluctuating, rising.

"Have I done something to upset you?" He couldn't take it. He had to ask. Her face smoothed over in shock, and she raised her head.

"What? No." Then she reached for his hand and twined her fingers through his. A sense of relief flooded him, even though she still looked reluctant. In a small voice, she added, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry." He squeezed her hand gently, running his thumb back and forth over her skin. "Tell me what's wrong."

The taxi rolled to a stop. Taylor gave him a wide-eyed expression. They stared at each other for a few seconds, before her countenance softened. "Let's get this over with. We'll talk about it tonight, when it's just us."

She gave his hand a squeeze in return before she opened the door and slid out of the cab. By the time he followed her, she was already making her way down the sidewalk, to where he could see the silhouette of Rachel Bailey waiting in the distance.

"—going back to New York once I get material for this piece. If there is material. I would hate to think I came to Detroit for nothing." Rachel was saying when he approached the two of them. She glanced in his direction and gave him a lopsided smile. "Hi, Connor."

"Hello, Miss Bailey. May I take your things for you?" She had a camera bag slung over one shoulder and a backpack over the other. Rachel looked down at her bags and shrugged, handing them over.

"Sure. Thanks, Connor." They made their way toward the church together. "My cameraman decided to evacuate himself after Hart Plaza. I guess it was all a little too much for him."

"Or is he the latest in a long line of cameramen you have run off?" Taylor asked, smiling in amusement.

"I resent that." Despite her words, Connor noticed that Rachel also seemed to be fighting off a smirk. "It's not my fault that no one can keep up with me."

"Sure."

"Anyway, no big loss." The three of them stepped into the church. Rachel looked up at the ceilings before glancing around at the crowds of androids. "Can I interview whoever I want?"

"I don't think you should be asking _me_ that." Taylor said. Rachel glanced back at him, and Connor blinked, surprised. She didn't want to interview him, surely?

"I'm digging the Robot Jesus vibes." She turned back to Taylor as though nothing happened. The blonde groaned.

"Please don't put that in your story." Rachel only laughed in response as they made their way towards the back of the church. Josh met them about halfway across the congregations of androids and led them through to where Markus was waiting.

"Taylor, Connor," Markus nodded to them and extended his hand to Rachel, who shook it, observing him with interest. "And you must be Rachel Bailey. Taylor tells me that we have you to thank for helping with the revolution."

"Don't thank me too much. Most of that was done without my knowledge and against my better judgment." She smiled as she released his hand. Markus, to his credit, just raised his eyebrows in response. "Still, thanks for the interview. You must be very busy."

"It's no problem."

"Are you okay with shooting at the pulpit?" Rachel looked around the small room, frowning. "It's too dark back here. Also, I didn't bring a tripod. Or a cameraman."

"Of course. Josh will help you set up." Markus smiled at her. "I need to speak with Taylor and Connor for a moment before I join you.

Rachel hesitated, her eyes passing between them, before she nodded. Connor passed the bags he was carrying to Josh and the two of them retreated back to the main area of the church.

"You could have given me a heads up about the Secretary of Homeland Defense calling me." Taylor pounced the second Rachel was out of earshot.

"I doubt there was much time for that. Alexis Headley seems like a very efficient woman, I'm sure she wasted no time." Markus turned his unaffected smiled on her. "What did she say?"

"It seems that Connor and I will be traveling to Washington. Though she wanted you to come, too." She bit her lip and placed her hands in her pockets. Markus didn't seem to notice as he nodded.

"I have to admit that this is happening faster than I anticipated." She gave him a look of surprise. Then she stepped closer to him and nudged him with her elbow.

"That's a good thing." Taylor headed over to help Rachel set up her equipment. Josh was trying to help, mostly unsuccessfully as he didn't know what he was doing. Connor made to follow her, but Markus held up an arm to stop him. They watched the two of them debating on where to put the camera for a few moments before Markus turned his attention to him.

"I know this goes without saying, but please look after her." Connor adjusted his tie, frowning.

"You think she will need to be protected in Washington?" He was being difficult, perhaps, on purpose. The request threw him off. He still didn't quite understand Markus and Taylor's relationship. Markus arched an eyebrow at him.

"We both know that Taylor has a propensity for recklessness. I feel better knowing that you will be with her, but if something happens to her because of this..." Markus trailed off, his dual-toned eyes shifting back to the two women. They were arguing about lighting while Josh still looked on, perplexed.

"Why did you ask Taylor to do this?" Connor folded his hands behind his back and didn't meet his gaze when Markus turned his head. He kept his eyes on Taylor, watching her laugh at whatever Rachel had said as they set up chairs.

"I didn't expect that question from you."

"Her friend Raj came by to suggest that perhaps you were using her as a shield to protect yourself from danger." Connor did turn his head then. A look of shock was covering Markus's face, real enough that some of the tension eased out of his shoulders. "She defended you, of course, but you can't deny that there is a certain logic to it."

"I see." Markus clenched his teeth, synthetic muscle in his jaw ticking. "What is it that you want me to say, Connor?" After a beat of silence, he said, "I asked Taylor because she believes in our cause, and because she is human. We need allies. At no point did I consider her a shield. You may find it hard to believe, but I care about Taylor."

Connor felt his own synthetic muscles tightening, his shoulders tense once more. Markus glanced over at him. Noticing his posture, the other android smiled. "I know that you also care for her."

"I do not need your encouragement to protect Taylor." Connor knew he was being unfair. He may have never become a deviant if it wasn't for Markus. Still, those very emotions were clouding his judgment now, making him irrational. "She's safe with me."

"Have you said anything to her?" Markus was still smiling. Connor blinked, the tautness in him releasing in his sudden confusion, but Markus elaborated, "About how you feel."

"Markus, she's ready for you." Taylor had reappeared before them, smiling at the deviant leader. He nodded and stepped around her. "Good luck!"

The blonde turned back toward him, her smile fading. She scanned his face for a few seconds before she asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Connor forced his face to relax, but she only frowned at his response.

"What were you talking about just now?" She came closer, tilting her head slightly. "You looked pretty tense."

"It's not important." She appeared unconvinced, but let it go. She eased in beside him, watching Rachel as she jotted notes and asked questions to Markus.

"She wants to interview you next." Connor raised his eyebrows. Taylor smiled. "Deviant hunter turned deviant. Great angle, you know."

He was quiet for a while, watching the interview in silence. Until he felt Taylor's fingers brush against his. His eyes found hers. "You don't have to do it if you don't want to."

"I don't mind." He squeezed her fingers before he released her, nervous suddenly that she would draw away from him again.

"Maybe you'll be famous, too." She smiled up at him again, a tinge of amusement in her features. A smirk tugged at his lips.

"I don't know if you can handle the competition." Taylor laughed, sudden and loud. She clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle it. His thirium pump surged with the sound. Humor was not a part of his programming, but he suddenly wanted to make her laugh again and again.

"Well you are smarter and prettier than I am." Their eyes met. Her face was flushed, eyes creased in laughter. He fought the urge to lean in and kiss her, wondering if emotions were supposed to be this overwhelming.

"That's debatable." He managed. She turned away, the color in her cheeks deepening.

"Hey, Blondie." They both looked up. Raj approached the two of them with an easy smile, but his dark eyes were on Taylor.

"Hey, Raj. I didn't know you were still here." A smile touched her lips, but there was tension around her eyes.

"Of course. There's still plenty of work to be done. Where else would I be?" He narrowed his eyes as he studied her. "I hear you're going to D.C. though."

"How exactly did you hear that?" Her voice was tinged with disbelief. Again, Connor was unsettled wondering if Raj had somehow been following them without him knowing.

"I've told you before, it's my job to know things." Raj shrugged as though it was really no big deal, but Connor knew that they had only found out about this hours ago and had come straight to Markus. His levels of distrust continued to rise, but Taylor scarcely thought twice. "You aren't still mad at me? I don't much like the thought of you leaving on bad terms."

"That depends. Are you apologizing?" She crossed her arms, frowning at him. He raised his eyebrows, and her smile morphed into a scowl.

"I still stand by what I said. I could have put it a little more delicately, I suppose." He wiggled his eyebrows and her glare faltered somewhat. "I wasn't trying to imply that I didn't need your help, Blondie. I couldn't have done half as much in L.A. without you. You don't have to be so god damn sensitive all the time."

"You don't understand what it's been like out here," she countered, a touch of defensiveness creeping into her tone. "That was a shit apology. But I suppose we're good."

"Guess I wasn't programmed for apologies." He grinned at her. Taylor laughed, and Connor found that when Raj was the one who had caused it, he felt discomfited. As if he could somehow detect the vein of his thoughts, Raj glanced over at him before he said, "Take care of yourself, Blondie."

"You too, Raj." Raj retreated back into the church from whence he came. Taylor turned back to him, and she must have read something in his expression or the knit of his brow, for she said, "What?"

"How much do you know about your friend Raj?" Now she looked perplexed, her eyebrows creasing with concern. To her credit, it only took her a few seconds to work out what he was getting at.

"Are you suspicious of him, now? Come on, Connor." Her easy dismissal of his concerns only served to make him more suspect. Taylor sighed deeply through her nose. "Well it really isn't any of your business, but he had no qualms talking about me, so I guess I don't see the harm. I'm sure you can see by his model and serial number that he was formerly a security android. More specifically, he worked at the Mexican-American border."

Connor registered a bit of surprise at that tidbit of information, which must have translated to his expression, for she smiled. "Raj was a member of the United States Border Patrol? So all of his work smuggling deviants into Mexico—"

"Was largely possible because he was a deviant Border Patrol agent, yes." Her smile widened. "The irony of him previously belonging under the jurisdiction of Homeland Security is not lost on me. I'll try not to think of it when I meet Alexis Headley face to face."

He frowned but didn't say anything else. The information, rather than putting his mind at ease, unsettled him further. Taylor considered him, tilting her head slightly. "I'm sorry. I don't really feel comfortable telling his personal history. I do trust him, though. If that means anything."

Connor studied her face. He trusted her, certainly, but he wasn't certain how far he trusted her judgment. Thus far she had not displayed a high capacity for logic or pragmatism.

"I believe it's your turn, Connor." Markus had returned, a smile gracing his features. Rachel was still standing near her camera, flipping through her notes with a look of concentration. Connor gave one more fleeting look at Taylor's face before he nodded and headed for the pulpit.

* * *

Taylor watched Connor walk away, still uneasy about the sudden shift in their conversation. She couldn't fathom why he didn't trust Raj, apart from the other android's clear skepticism towards Markus. Trying to explain the months of time before she had come to Detroit to Connor felt impossible, though. He wouldn't understand, he would have to trust Raj on his own.

"He is very protective of you." She'd almost forgotten about Markus, standing just beside her. He was watching her as she watched Connor, but she found herself drawn into his different colored eyes.

"I'm aware." Really, it was a bit of an understatement. Connor was underfoot whenever he was around, though she couldn't really complain. His persistent concern for her wellbeing had not only kept her out of trouble but saved her on multiple occasions.

"Are you?" Something in his tone, the humor laced in his words, made Taylor reconsider what Markus had said. What did the deviant leader see when he looked at the two of them? He had walked in, unceremoniously, on their first kiss in this very room. Though from that moment her relationship with Connor had stalled, and she had an inkling that was mostly her doing.

"You're a self-proclaimed deviant expert. I would think it would be clearer to you." The hint of a smile still played at his lips. He had folded his hands behind his back in a stance that, as usual, reminded her of Connor. Unable the focus, she kept glancing between the blue and the green, suddenly wondering which color had been his original and which the replacement.

"Actually," she said, turning her gaze out to the church, away from him, "CyberLife designated me a deviant expert. I never claimed to be an expert of anything."

"Right. Of course you didn't." He was nearly laughing at her now, and she snapped her head back to him. He had the decency to look abashed. "I'm sorry. I'm only trying to figure you out. Even now."

"Something else you two have in common, I suppose." She sighed. Markus raised his eyebrows, though the mirth still played behind his eyes. She was trying her best to pretend that it, coupled with his penetrating stare, wasn't getting under her skin.

"Do you want to know what I find the most puzzling thing about you, Taylor?" Despite how discomfiting, she met his eyes again. She hoped that they were green, before, though she liked them now. They were beautiful, otherworldly even, and that's what made them hard to look at.

"What?"

"I told you before that I watched all of your interviews related to deviants." She nodded, suddenly nervous. Perhaps she didn't want to hear this after all, but it was too late to take it back. "This was before I decided to reach out to you, to ask for your help with the revolution. I wanted to see what kind of person you were."

"And?" Markus had gone quiet. Without an LED, she couldn't tell if he was processing, accessing memory files, or just lost in thought.

"There was something...poignant and passionate in the way that you spoke. About deviants, about android rights. You got angry when someone suggested that deviants weren't people, but you certainly knew how to work a camera."

"I've been famous my entire life," she said, brows furrowing. She couldn't understand where this was going. Markus smiled, nodding, acknowledging her.

"Yes, I know. Still, I thought that you believed in our cause, and so I waited for a chance to meet you alone." He paused, considering her again. "You were so different in person. Unaffected. Almost reticent."

"You accosted me in the middle of my run and asked me to follow you to God knows where." Taylor said in her defense, not liking the direction the conversation was taking.

"I considered that. I admit I didn't expect you to pull a gun on me." His lips twitched. "But the more I got to know you, up until this very moment, I still don't understand how to reconcile that person on film with you. The confidence you have on screen doesn't seem to follow you. It almost prevented you from staying here, from continuing to help with the revolution when you've already devoted so much."

"I'm an actress." She blurted it into the first pause, unable to bear anymore. Markus laying her bare so nonchalantly. "What you see on camera is just an act. A persona. Taylor Kolbeck comma celebrity. She doesn't exist."

Markus had gone silent. He stared at her in surprise, and she almost laughed, the bitter emotions curling against her throat. "What did you expect me to say? It's not some big mystery. Something terrible happened to me and I haven't been able to believe in myself since."

Without realizing it, her fingers had come to rest on her neck, mirroring the pattern of bruises. She clenched her hand into a fist and tucked it against her side, too late for Markus not to be openly staring at them. He was as flustered as she had ever seen him, his normally cool composure completely frayed.

Then he took a step closer and placed his hands delicately on her shoulders. "I think that you're wrong." A shudder of breath made her chest tremble under his fingers. Her hand relaxed and her arm fell back to her side.

"I think that the person on camera is a part of you, too. Even when you don't believe in yourself, there are other people who do. I'm one of them." He leaned down so that they were at eye level. She found that in this moment, though he was still looking right through her, she couldn't look away.

"I'm amazed by the things that you have done and the things that you have been through." His fingers squeezed her shoulders, gently. "I should have told you this before I asked you to be our ambassador. I haven't acknowledged how hard this has been for you."

"Probably because your people have been dying." It was a poor attempt to divert topics.

"Less of them because of you." He smiled at her again, soft, kind, and her shakily cobbled together composure wanted to crumble. "The people here have a real shot at freedom because of your help. I believe in you."

Those four words broke something in her, like pulling a stone from her foundation and making the whole structure collapse. Connor had said the same thing to her, and hearing it again now somehow cemented it into fact. A choked noise escaped her, but Markus drew her into his chest before she could lapse into sobs. His hand worked slow strokes through her hair, soothing her.

"I know I have said it before, but I am grateful for what you've done for us." His voice was a rumble in his chest, her face pressed against it, tears soaking into his coat. Beneath it, she could feel the steady thrum of his thirium pump. "Thank you for saying yes to becoming our ambassador."

She just nodded, not trusting her voice or her ability to string together words. He slid his hands down her arms and gently pulled away, his hands still cupping her elbows. He gave her a gentle smile. "I expect you to be in close contact while you are in Washington."

"Of course."

* * *

Rachel was staring up at the ceiling of the church with her face scrunched in a look of determination that Taylor recognized all too well. The brunette tossed her a look over her shoulder, waggling her eyebrows. "You think I could get up there somehow?"

"What, in the ceiling?" She returned skeptically, following her gaze up to the rafters. "I don't see how. I don't see another level."

"I really want a shot from above. You think I could climb on the roof?" Undeterred, Rachel headed toward the large doors at the front of the church, still surveying the room as she went. She had interviewed both Markus and Connor at length, then asked Josh some questions as well while she filmed shots of the church.

"Judging by the holes already present, even if you could make it up there, I don't think it would be wise." Taylor tried, unsuccessfully, to fight off the grin tugging at her lips. After Josh, Rachel had singled out Simon next, who had been nervous but willing to answer her questions. North had flat out refused, which only seemed to interest the reporter more.

"Oh, so you can run into danger left and right, but I have to make sure the roof is structurally sound?" There was a teasing undertone to her words as Rachel posted up next to the church doors, spanning her camera across the crowds of androids. Her eyes were still searching for something, someone she had missed to include in her story.

"Very funny." Taylor rolled her eyes. After a couple of minutes, Rachel closed the foldout panel on the handheld camera and turned to consider the blonde beside her instead of the room at large.

"You ready for your part?" Taylor felt her shoulders tense. She knew what was coming next, she just wasn't sure if she was ready or not.

"You aren't going to film it?" Her blue eyes flicked down to the camera, inert in Rachel's hands, The brunette shrugged.

"Story isn't about you, is it? I think it might be better to keep you off for now. I'm pretty sure this story is going to be print, but I might post the interviews separately." She looked toward the back, where Markus and the others were talking. "Some things you have to see with your eyes to make it real. Genocide is only a word until people are face to face with the bodies."

Taylor didn't say anything. She knew that Rachel had a point, but she had been fighting this too long. She knew the real battle would be getting holdouts to acknowledge that deviant androids were people deserving of rights. She only hoped that Rachel's article would help in some way.

Rachel sat her camera down on a nearby pew, one of the many that had been pushed against the walls in stacks, and sat down, pulling her notebook out of her pocket. She had to be one of the few people left in the modern world to hand write her notes, but she swore that it helped her to remember them later.

When her pencil was poised over the page, she gave Taylor an expectant look, eyebrow raised. "Aren't you supposed to ask questions?"

"In this case, I feel like you'll tell me more if I don't." Her lips twisted into an ironic smile. "I still want to know what you were doing in Los Angeles."

Taylor grimaced. "I'll tell you, but it has to remain off the record."

"What the hell, Taylor?" Rachel practically screeched with her indignation, so much so that some of the androids closest to them turned to stare.

"Look, it involves the safety of others. You can't publish it." Taylor gave her a hard look, and she sighed.

"Fine, fine, enough with the cryptic bullshit. Off the record."

"I was helping to smuggle deviants out of the country into Mexico." She said in one quick breath. Rachel blinked. She lowered her hands into her lap, quiet for a full minute.

"Okay, I know what I just said, but you have to let me publish that." She turned so that her whole body was facing her, their knees bumping together, leaning forward. "Do you realize how much more sympathetic this story gets when people realize that androids have been fleeing the country."

"Rachel, absolutely not." Taylor frowned. "This is people's safety we're talking about. If you publish that you could jeopardize everything."

"Androids don't have to escape across the border anymore," Rachel argued. Taylor took a deep breath in her nose, releasing it before she responded.

"For now. No one believes that this whole thing is going to work more than I do." She paused, almost unwilling to say it, as if speaking things gave them power. "But if it all falls apart, and the government, or CyberLife, or whoever else decides to capture and destroy androids again? They can't escape if everyone knows exactly where to look."

Rachel stared back at her in silence, her lips pursed, blue eyes narrowed. Eventually, though, her shoulders slumped. "Fine. I guess you have a point."

They settled in again, and Rachel fired off a couple of questions to get her going. About the investigation, about her involvement with CyberLife, about the deviant cases. Before she realized it, Taylor was telling the whole thing without prompting, just as Rachel had anticipated.

When the whole tale wrapped up, Rachel tucked her notebook in her pocket again and gave Taylor another appraising look. "One more question. Off the record."

"Okay?" The uncertainty crept into her voice unbidden. It was the way the left side of Rachel's mouth was curling upward, the corners of her eyes crinkling.

"You totally blew me off last time I asked, but what's the deal with you and Connor?" Taylor felt heat creeping up her neck almost instantly, her heart rate spiraling out of control. This time she didn't even bother trying to deny her feelings, so newly reconciled with them as she was, and Rachel snorted with laughter. "Oh dear, don't make that face."

"What face? God, stop laughing at me." Rachel positively shook as she covered her mouth with her hand, the other clutching her sides. She was trying to keep herself under control, quite marginally.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect that reaction." She wiped at the corners of her eyes. "Seriously, though."

"I think I'm in love with him." Taylor blurted. Rachel stopped laughing immediately, her face freezing in a comical expression of shock. When a moment passed and she realized that Taylor was serious, working her hands nervously in her lap, the expression faded.

"Well, I mean, I kind of figured that. I just didn't expect you to say it." Rachel gave her a smile, nudged her with her elbow. "Don't look so worried. That android is crazy about you."

Taylor snorted then, shaking her head. "How do you know?"

"As if the way he looks at you wasn't enough." Rachel rolled her eyes. "I thought he was going to explode right in front of me when you were getting all cozy with Markus in the corner. You could have at least taken that somewhere private."

The blush that had faded Taylor now felt coming back full force. "We're just friends."

"Well that's certainly not what Connor was thinking." Rachel grinned at her. "What about that time he rescued you from Anthony at that charity event? I was there for that one." She paused, and then added, "I also just got to listen to him talk about you at length in relation to a certain deviant investigation. Very endearing."

Taylor worried the edge of her lip with her teeth as she looked out across the church. When she finally found the familiar silhouette of Connor among the crowd of androids, she realized that he was looking in her direction. Her eyes dropped back down to her fingers twisting in her lap.

Rachel reached over and placed a hand on her arm. "Hey. Seriously. If you're in love with Connor, then go for it."

"Yeah, thanks," she said, huffing out a laugh. She'd been trying to work out, in the back of her head, how she was going to even tell Connor how she felt. She hadn't moved on to how he might respond yet. When she looked up again, his eyes were still fixed on her.


	35. Can't Help Falling in Love

**Haley Reinhart – Can't Help Falling in Love**

Connor shifted in his seat, watching Taylor as discreetly as he could in his peripherals. Since seeing Rachel off and leaving the church, she was definitely avoiding him again. He ran scan after scan on her elevated stress levels, heart rate, shallow respirations. The most logical conclusion he could come to was that she was nervous.

For that reason, he had not pushed her. She had told him that she would talk to him when they were alone, and though they were certainly alone now, she was still tentative. He had worked out, over time, the levels of her anxiety by her tics.

She would start by tapping her fingers against her leg. If she noticed what she was doing, sometimes she would tuck her hands under her thighs or into her pockets in an attempt to stop herself. Inevitably her fingers would start twisting in her lap, hands wringing. At her very worst, her fingers would clench and unclench, not quite making fists, grasping at something that wasn't there.

Right now, her hands were past tapping, twisting in constant repetitive motions. Her blue eyes were transfixed on the window, staring into the middle distance. He wanted to reach over, slide his hand into hers, still them. At this moment, he thought that might make it worse.

"Your conversation with Markus looked quite intense." Connor had not intended to say those words when he opened his mouth to speak. They had been eating away at him, however, since the moment in the church. He had heard what he thought was a noise of distress from Taylor, only to look over and find Markus holding her in his arms.

The hands working in her lap finally stilled. Taylor turned her head, her expression guarded as she stared at him. She chewed on the corner of her lip for a moment, before she said, "We were just talking. He didn't want to leave anything unsaid, I guess. Before I left. Same as Raj."

There was a halting, hesitant quality to her speech. Still nervous, even now. But she kept her eyes on his, until the familiar ringing of her phone pulled her attention away. She reached in her pocket and pulled the device free, her face draining of color.

"Hello?" Still, Taylor answered immediately. Connor watched her face change as she listened to the person on the other end of the line, not saying anything in response. Her free hand shot out, suddenly, and she gripped his arm. "Yes. Thank you, Secretary Headley."

He glanced down at her fingers, tight around his forearm, then back up to her face. She was looking at her darkened phone screen, but she glanced up at him, her eyes wide. "She has a thing for hanging up on me. Connor, she said yes!"

"What?" He couldn't fully process her meaning because she leaned into him, throwing her arms around his neck. The smell of her shampoo overwhelmed his senses. He slid his arms around her before she could pull away again, holding her closer.

"She gave us the CyberLife building." She pulled away then, her face lit up with excitement. His hands were still resting against her waist, her hands curled into the lapels of his jacket. "I have to call Markus."

Just like that, Taylor moved back into her side of the cab. Connor continued to watch her as she spoke to Markus over the phone, her features animated. When she hung up, she turned to him again.

"We leave for Washington in two days." She was still smiling, but the longer she looked at him, the more the previous moments seem to come back to her. He could sense the moment her nerves started to take back over. Reaching for her hand, he wanted to distract her, to comfort her, for the smile not to leave her face.

"Taylor—"

"I love you." Connor froze, his fingers splayed in the space between them. He looked up, meeting her eyes, wide and blue. She pressed her hand over mouth, like she couldn't believe the words had made it past her lips. The silence wrapped around them.

He leaned closer. She didn't move away, didn't move at all. He placed his hand on her arm, gently pulled her hand away from her face. "What?"

She turned her eyes away. He reached up and cupped her face with both of his hands, forced her to look at him again. Their eyes met. He knew he had not misheard her, but still he said, "What did you say?"

He felt a slight shudder go through her. Her throat bobbed when she swallowed. "I-I didn't...I meant..." Her eyelids fluttered closed. She took a deep breath, and he could feel her heartbeat ticking wildly against the fingers resting on her pulse.

The taxi rolled to a stop. They were at the hotel. Still, Taylor didn't move. She opened her eyes again, finally. "I'm in love with you."

Connor slid closer then, so close his leg pressed into hers. He dipped his head and captured her lips with his. He felt her gasp and slipped his tongue into her mouth, exploring, tasting her. But she was responding to his touch, leaning closer and pressing into him, hungry for more. His fingers slid back into her hair, tugging, his other hand trailing down her spine, trying to bring her against him in the limited space.

Eventually she ran out of air. She pulled away, panting, while he pressed kisses against the corner of her mouth, trailing along her jaw until he reached her neck. He worked his way down slowly, reveling in the small noises of pleasure she made as he moved along the fluttering beat of her pulse.

Each sound stoked something in him, something new, white hot and consuming. His hand fisted into the fabric of her coat, nearly pulling her into his lap as he pushed closer still, turning his head upward to cover her mouth with his again. Their tongues met, and she moaned quietly into the kiss.

Connor leaned in at the same moment, the inches between them feeling like miles, and heard a small thud as Taylor pressed into the door of the cab. He pulled away immediately, his LED spiraling red at her sharp intake of breath. Her hand shot up to the back of her head, reflexively, where it had just connected with the glass.

"I'm sorry," he said urgently, releasing his grip on her and reaching a hand up to gently probe beneath her hair. She grabbed his hand, her eyes crinkling into a smile.

"I'm okay. This is why making out in the back of cars is stupid." Laughing through her nose, she gently pushed his hand away. He reached up with his other hand, though, and tucked the loose strand of hair that had fallen into her eyes back into place, letting his fingers trace the curve of her cheek.

"I think I am in love with you too, though I confess that my limited experience with emotions does not let me say that with utmost certainty." His LED faded to a gently pulsing yellow, and he tilted his head. "I do feel more things when I am with you than I do at any other time."

"Well that's just vague enough to be worrisome," she said, but she was still smiling as she leaned into his touch. Connor hesitated, trying to think of another way to describe it.

"When I'm with you, I don't want to leave you. I want to protect you from harm." His thumb moved down to gently brush against the edge of her lip. "I always want to kiss you."

She huffed another laugh, short and sweet, and he found himself leaning closer once more despite himself. "You were the first human to treat me like a person, even when I was still just a machine."

The laughter faded. Taylor stared into his eyes, her expression shifting, and he felt her lips tremble beneath his touch. "You were always a person to me."

Connor closed the little bit of distance, pressed his forehead against hers. "When I'm with you, I feel alive."

She leaned forward then, pressed her lips against his, soft and sure. He felt his thirium pump speed up in response, the more firmly she pressed against him. Then she pulled away, her hand lingering on his chest.

"I feel safe, with you." A slight frown puckered her lips. "I know that probably sounds weird. But it's not something I'm used to, and I miss you when you aren't around, even though I've only known you for a little while." She smiled again, almost shyly, before adding, "I also think about kissing you. A lot."

He kissed her again, sliding his arms around her waist and pulling her into him, careful not to push her into the door this time. She pulled away after a moment, hovering close to him, smiling. "Maybe we should go inside?"

He pressed his lips against the corner of her mouth, one more time, before he reached around her to open the taxi door. "Right."

* * *

The elevator doors slid closed. Taylor felt Connor's fingers tighten around hers, and her heart fluttered in her chest. No matter how many times he had kissed her, it still felt impossible. Even now, she could sense his eyes on her, watching.

Her phone started to ring in her pocket once again, and for once she was grateful for a distraction. Jake's name was flashing on the screen as she answered, "Hello?"

"Hey, Taylor." While he had been the one to call her, Jake sounded oddly hesitant on his end of the line. "Are you busy?"

"No, not at all." The elevator pinged as they arrived at the correct floor. She released Connor's hand to dig in her pocket for her hotel key as they both stepped out into the hallway.

"Uh, are you available for dinner? At my house?" Jake sounded tense. She tried to puzzle out a reason why while she let herself in to the hotel.

"Yeah, sure." Connor followed just behind her into the room. She glanced at him before she turned the other way, dropping her things on the bed. "Do you have a new girlfriend for me to meet or something?"

"No, nothing like that." He didn't even rise to that bait, which made her seriously pause. "Just come whenever, okay? I gotta go."

"Okay, Jake. Is everything alright?"

"Yeah. Everything is fine. I'll see you later." He hung up, leaving Taylor to stare at the phone in bewilderment. Connor was still watching her, his head now tilted in his usual inquisitive stance. She shrugged.

"Jake wants me over for dinner, but he sounds nervous about something." She tossed the phone on the bed and started unbuttoning her coat, still considering, when she felt Connor's hands on her. He slid the coat from her shoulders and tucked it over his arm.

"What time will you go?" He turned to hang the coat up, and she exhaled through her nose, her face flushing anyway. She watched as he walked, the broad expanse of his shoulders, each careful movement of his hands.

"I don't know. I'm kind of curious now." Shaking her head, she forced herself to look away. "Do you want to come?"

Connor faced her again. "Certainly." He took several measured steps across the room back to her. A moment later, his fingers were brushing against her cheeks, turning her face back to him. "What should we do in the meantime?"

"I can't think of anything." Her lips curved into a smile. Connor leaned down to kiss her, and her eyes fluttered closed. Even though she should be used to it by now, her heart started racing, heat crawling along her skin. He kissed her like he was tasting her, like he couldn't get enough, and it scrambled every other thought in her head.

She stepped into him, pressing into his chest, twisting her fingers through his hair. His arms moved down her back, hands resting against her hips as he drew her closer. He grew bolder the longer they kissed, and his hand dipped under the hem of her shirt. The feel of his fingers against her bare skin made her breath catch.

Taylor broke away, gasping. Connor kept his eyes on her face, his fingers still tracing patterns along her ribcage while he kept her fixed in that intent gaze of his, watching her reactions to his touch. His normally chocolate colored eyes were dark as he pressed his lips over hers again.

The phone on the bed behind them started ringing again. She groaned against his mouth, pulling back. His grip tightened on her waist and she sighed. "I promised Alex I wouldn't ignore the phone."

Pressing one more kiss against his lips, she slipped from his touch and snatched up the phone. Sure enough, it was Alex's name lighting up the screen, and she answered it quickly, before it could go to voicemail. "Hello?"

"Finally."

"Oh, don't be dramatic." She rolled her eyes as she sat on the bed. Her eyes found Connor, standing just where she'd left him. When their eyes met, he adjusted his tie and retreated to the vanity to sit.

"What? I thought you might regress right back into your old habits." The tone of amusement in his voice was unmistakable. "I got your message. I sent your stuff overnight to the hotel. I also found your secret stash."

"That's a name for it." She rolled her eyes again, but her heart still stuttered with nervousness anyway. "I already told you about the deviant thing, it's not exactly a secret."

"I guess I didn't picture random deviant androids showing up at your house when you told me about it. I just assumed you wouldn't put yourself in that kind of danger." His tone was tense with the reply. A few seconds of silence stretched into a minute, and Alex sighed, realizing she wasn't going to say anything. "It looks like you won't be in Detroit for long?"

"Yes, Connor and I will be flying to Washington D.C. the day after tomorrow." Taylor glanced down at her shoes.

"Well you don't sound very excited about it." She bit her lip, keeping her eyes on the tips of her boots, trying not to look at Connor in her peripherals. If he wasn't sitting there, she might have been more honest with Alex. She might have told him she was terrified, and she still thought this was all a giant mistake.

"Just nervous, I guess," she said instead, skirting the truth. If anyone would understand her misgivings, it would be Alex. "I wish you could have stayed."

There was another beat of silence. She closed her eyes. She hadn't meant to say it, but with the realization that she would have to do all of this without him sinking in, the words had just come out, unbidden. Unfair.

"You don't need me there." He laughed, a little forced to ease the tension, but it made her feel better anyway. "You said so yourself, right? This is going to be good for you."

"Right. You're right."

"Have you seen the story on these anti-android protestors?" He changed the subject deftly, as though they'd only been discussing her latest jobs.

"You have to be more specific. There's plenty of those." She tried to make it a joke but came off a bit strained since she was still trying to get her bearings. He scoffed.

"Apparently they're picketing in Washington. You know, the place you're headed? I only pay attention to this stuff because of you, you know." She really did laugh at that, at the exasperation in his voice.

"Shouldn't you care about what's happening in the world?" Taylor glanced around the room and spotted the TV remote on the bedside table. She reached for it. "Are you talking about Helping Humans?"

"Yes! That's them. Nutjobs." She flipped the television on. It was already set to the news station, but there was an ongoing story playing about the state of Detroit since the revolution. "I hate the news, it's all a crap shoot."

"You have a kid now; you're supposed to be a responsible adult. Helping Humans has been around since before the revolution, since before deviants even became news." The news story shifted, and Taylor caught the first glimpse of what Alex was talking about. There were crowds of picketers being shown in Washington, shots from outside the White House, the Pentagon, and the National Mall of people with signs.

"Yeah, well, there must be more of them crawling out of the woodwork because they're certainly getting attention now. I'm guessing you've heard of these people?" She'd gone quiet as she stared at their signs, the familiar LED with a solid black line drawn diagonally through it. The anti-android sentiment that Helping Humans had pushed since the beginning.

"Yeah, I know them. I've met a couple of them. Not very pleasant." She looked over at Connor, who was also watching the story about the protests with interest. "I'm not really sure what they think they're protesting. Nothing is even happening yet."

"A lot of people consider the military pulling out of Detroit as a secession. It sets a precedent. These Helping Human people want the military to retake Detroit and eradicate deviant androids once and for all."

"That's insane." Taylor leaned forward, trying to follow the story on the screen without the sound on.

"Yes, well, as you put it, 'not very pleasant'. Every political movement needs some radicals, right?" He tried to sound flippant, but she could tell he was worried. She suspected this was the actual reason he had called.

"It's no fun without some opposition. I just hope this is over soon, I don't want to hang around in Washington for too long. People might get the wrong idea." She attempted to make it a joke as well, and to his credit, he actually laughed.

"The good news is, you're too young to run for president." A laugh escaped her as well. "Be careful out there."

"I will. Thanks." She hung up the phone and reached behind her to the bedside table to plug it into the charger. When she turned back around, she ticked the volume up on the television just enough so it could be heard. Connor was watching her now instead of the news story.

"You have heard of this group?" He asked after she settled back on the edge of the bed to watch it with the sound, but the news anchor was wrapping up and getting ready to segue to the next bit.

"Helping Humans? Yeah." A small furrow appeared in between his eyebrows, the only tell in his otherwise blank expression that he was also worried. "They're one of several anti-android activist groups that I know of. It comes with the territory."

He considered her for a moment, his expression unmoved. Finally, he said, "Previously, during the investigation, you eluded to exposure to deviants when in actuality you were helping a deviant Border Patrol agent smuggle deviants across the border. Now you're saying that you know of this group who happens to be protesting in Washington, but only in passing?"

"Are you saying you don't believe me?" She tried to keep the hurt out of her voice, but it wasn't easy. Connor frowned.

"I believe you. I'm just wondering if there is more to these encounters than you realize. You told Alex that they were unpleasant." He kept her fixed in his gaze. Taylor wanted to remember he was trying to keep her safe, but her rational thoughts were already crumbling beneath the edges of her anxiety.

"Well, like I said, I just met a couple of them. Once. At this panel debate thing I did in L.A. a couple of months back. On screen, they had all of the usual arguments about androids taking human jobs, being made to outlast humans, etc. After the show, though, they said some really cryptic things about the fall of mankind."

Connor positively scowled, and she grimaced in response. "That's what you call 'unpleasant'?"

"Look, to you that probably sounds really dire, but you have to appreciate the fact that I'm a celebrity, Connor. People say strange things to me all the time. I've heard weirder things from deviant supporters." She said it to make a point, then realized how it sounded.

"Hearing threatening overtures is just another day of your life, then?" He leaned forward in the chair, looking like he wanted to stand and come over to her but was holding himself back.

"Not exactly," she said, exasperated. "But I meet a lot of people. Most of them are nice people. Some of them are assholes. Statistically speaking, a handful of them are going to be insane, right?"

His lips quirked at that, and she felt the tension ease off of her just a little. "Statistically speaking, yes. Do you remember anything else about them? Anything that they said?"

"No. I got out of there as soon as they started in on the end of the world mumbo jumbo." She hesitated, then said, "There were two of them, a man and a woman. Outwardly, they looked like normal people."

"Do you remember the date of this panel?" His LED was flickering yellow now as he processed her responses.

"End of the summer, I think? August, maybe the beginning of September." The soft pulsing of his LED continued, and she suddenly realized what he was doing. "Are you looking for the video?"

"I have found it." He said, his LED sliding back to blue as he blinked. "I scanned through for the two people you described and searched the police database for criminal records."

"That seems somehow illegal. Also, unnecessary." Connor was the picture of seriousness while he returned her skeptical look. "You still have access to the police database?"

"It hasn't been revoked." He said it conversationally, but she started to laugh, and his lips curled into a smirk. "They both have no priors."

"Well, I will take comfort in that. I'm sure you will try to find other ways that they're plotting against me." She was teasing as she stood, making her way toward him.

"Someone has to make up for your reckless disregard for your personal safety." She paused mid-step, but the still present smirk on his face let her know that he was indeed teasing her back.

"Come on, we should go."


	36. Yellow

**Coldplay - Yellow**

Connor watched the houses passing by the window as the taxi made its way to Jake's house. Taylor was beside him, wrapped up in whatever world was taking place on the other side of her phone screen. She had tried to explain to him the amount of interacting she had to do on social media per day just to keep up with the incoming flood of messages, but the concept still felt abstract.

The taxi rolled to a stop, and Connor helped her out onto the sidewalk. Snow was falling, gently coating the ground and the car as it idled. Taylor shivered and kept her hand in his as they made their way up the walkway.

Jake answered the door immediately when he rang the bell, leading them inside a two-story home. Taylor had told him that Jake lived alone, but the house could have easily accommodated a large family with room to spare. He supposed that Jake, like Taylor, was also fairly rich, though he had previously claimed not to be famous.

"Good to see you, Connor." Jake offered a hand for him to shake, breaking Connor out of the temporary reverie of observing his surroundings. They shook hands, and while they did, Connor noticed that Jake did indeed seem to be nervous about something. His stress levels were at 52% and he kept glancing at Taylor as she made her way deeper inside.

Connor stepped around him to join Taylor as she stepped into the living room, expecting something, anything, but the room was empty. She didn't seem to notice the underlying tension as she flopped onto the couch and glanced around. "You've redecorated."

"It's been over a year since you've been here." Jake answered, smiling casually as he walked past. "What do you want to drink?"

"Doesn't matter. No alcohol, please." He disappeared back toward what Connor assumed was the kitchen, so Connor came closer and took a seat on the couch next to Taylor while they waited. After a moment, she reached over and tucked her hand into his, offering him a small smile.

"Taylor?" They were still looking at each other when the voice cut through the quiet, female and hesitant. Taylor's head whipped around to the entranceway, to the petite woman now standing in the spot where Jake had disappeared just seconds ago, looking at the blonde uncertainly.

Connor took in the young woman's face, her cropped black hair against her pale skin, strong jawline and slightly bumped nose. Without running a facial scan, he recognized her as Hayley Kolbeck, albeit much older than the photographs he had looked through at Taylor's house. Now she stood in the doorway, feet set apart, shoulders squared.

"Hayley." He felt Taylor tense next to him, shift like she was going to stand up. Then she reconsidered, poised directly on the edge of the couch cushion, resting on the balls of her feet. She'd pulled her hand out of his and had both palms flat on the couch, bracing.

"Oh." Jake appeared over Hayley's shoulder, glasses in each hand. He looked uncertainly between his two siblings before he resumed his path toward Taylor, setting her drink on a coaster on the coffee table. They both ignored him, and he tried to pretend everything was normal. "Taylor, Hayley wanted to see you."

"Jake!" Hayley hissed, glaring at him. She shifted on her feet, crossed her arms. Taylor finally pushed herself off of the couch and stood across from her, though she kept her arms at her sides. Her back straight, toes pointed outward.

"It's good to see you." Taylor's finger's twitched. She balled her hands into loose fists. Her voice was remarkably calm given the erratic beating of her heart that Connor could still detect, her skyrocketing stress levels.

"Is it?" Hayley gave the faintest hint of a smile. "When's the last time we saw each other?"

"It's been a while," Taylor conceded. Jake was looking between them again, uneasy, like he had orchestrated this without understanding what the consequences might bring. "Was there a reason you wanted to see me?"

"I saw what happened. To you." Hayley paused, glancing down at the bruises. For the first time, Connor saw Taylor's hand move up to cover her neck, like she didn't want her little sister to see. She stopped herself, halfway, and dropped her hand. "And I started thinking."

"About what?" Taylor sounded more hesitant than ever, like she didn't want to know, didn't want the conversation to go on.

"About when we were children. About when you went away." Hayley took a step closer. Taylor tensed.

"I left when our mother died." She swallowed. "I left because our mother died."

"You went to Los Angeles with your agent while Jake and I went to live with our aunt. You didn't see me for all these years." Hayley said, a challenge in her voice now. Her mouth became a hard line, her eyes narrowing.

"You didn't want to see me." Taylor said, defensive.

"I thought you abandoned us. No one told me the truth. No one would tell me the truth." Hayley scowled. "I didn't even come to see you off when you left."

"You were only six." Taylor's voice had gotten smaller. It was unclear which question she was trying to answer.

"Well, it wasn't hard to figure out now. I made Jake tell me." Taylor paled, her gaze shifting to Jake, but he was staring at the floor, unable to look at either of them. "You know the funny thing about sealing police records, Taylor? By law, Anthony still had to register as a sex offender."

There was a minute of silence. Taylor turned back to Hayley, wide-eyed, her face blanching of color. They stared at each other. Hayley's expression remained hard, frowning. The blonde seemed to come to terms with what she heard, for she finally said, "And?"

"And?" Hayley repeated, her voice an indignant shriek. Taylor shifted on her feet again, but her hands relaxed at her sides. She took a deep breath, in her nose.

"You've learned the truth. What is it that you hoped I would say?" Taylor fixed Hayley with a perfectly blank stare and waited. Hayley's face contorted through a myriad of different emotions in the span of seconds, her mouth opening and closing with the struggle of speech. She seemed to be fuming, and the feeling she settled into was anger, her posture shifting to match her furious expression.

Connor was watching Taylor with concern. Her stress levels were still wildly fluctuating, but outwardly she was the picture of calm. He had never seen her quite like this, detached from the situation.

"I want you to explain yourself!"

"I don't understand." Taylor's composed inflection only seemed to rile Hayley more, but she really did appear puzzled. "Explain what?"

"Why did you do it?" Hayley took another step closer, then another, her own hands balled into fists at her sides. Taylor didn't move away, didn't move at all, but Connor felt himself tensing on the couch. "Why did you stay quiet? Why did you talk? Why did you leave us here?"

Taylor waited to see if there were more questions, but Hayley just stood there, shaking in her fury. Eventually, she spoke, "I stayed quiet because I was afraid. I spoke up because I was afraid for you. I left because it was too hard, staying here in Detroit."

There was another beat of quiet, and Taylor tilted her head. "What is it you really want to know, Hayley? Do you think that there is something I can tell you that is going to make it make sense for you? I haven't been able to make sense of it for almost twenty years."

"Why did you do it?" Hayley repeated, her anger persistent, clawing for an answer that would satisfy her.

"I did it to protect you. Is that what you want me to say?" Taylor kept her face carefully neutral, even as her words renewed Hayley's rage. "I knew Anthony was going to do the same thing to you. It was only a matter of time."

"That wasn't your job!"

"You're probably right about that." Taylor smiled then, even in the face of her sister's wrath. "Can I ask you something, Hayley? Have you been happy?"

"What?" Hayley faltered then, almost stumbling backward.

"These past years, in Detroit, without me. You graduated high school. You're attending university. You have friends, a somewhat normal life. Are you happy?" Taylor kept her gaze steady on Hayley's face while the other girl worked her jaw, her brow furrowed.

"I...I guess so." She said, reluctant.

"That's why I did it." Taylor raised her hands, palms outward, a half shrug. As if it were simple. "When I was twelve, sitting alone in the emergency room, I kept thinking to myself, 'Hayley is going to be okay'. And you are. And I'd do it again, knowing all of the consequences."

Hayley took the final step forward and threw her arms around Taylor's neck, her angry veneer finally crumbling into sobs. The blonde's pretense of poise slipped away as well, her face a mask of surprise. Slowly, she placed her arms around the shorter girl, returning the embrace carefully. On the other side of them, Jake breathed an audible sigh of relief.

When Hayley finally pulled away, Taylor managed an uneasy smile. "Am I really going to get dinner or was this just a not-so-elaborate ruse to get me here?"

"Yes, dear sister, I am going to cook for you." Jake gave her a cavalier smile, tense around the edges still.

"I'm not sure if I should be delighted or terrified." Taylor sent him an amused glance as he headed back toward the kitchen. Hayley paused before she also followed after him, throwing one more furtive glance over her shoulder.

With the two of them alone in the living room, Taylor seemed to deflate, her shoulders slumping. Connor stood, and she turned to him immediately, pressing her face against his shoulder. He placed his arms around her, his hands sliding gently down her back. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," she said quietly. Then she laughed softly, shakily. "I'm really glad I asked you to come."

"I didn't do anything." He said, his brow creasing. She pulled away a step, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"But you were here." She leaned up to kiss his cheek, then slid her arm through his and tugged him in the direction of the kitchen. She grabbed her drink on the way. "Come on, before they come back looking for us."

They followed the noise of pots and footsteps down a short hallway that opened up into a large kitchen. Jake was at the island, chopping vegetables. Hayley had taken a seat at the table and glanced up when they entered. Neither of the two were talking, but Taylor shrugged it off as she also made her way for the table.

"By the way, Hayley this is Connor. Connor, my sister Hayley." She made the introduction hastily as she took her seat. Connor offered his hand to the dark-haired girl, who was now looking up at him with interest. She obliged him with a handshake, arching an eyebrow.

"You're an android." It was a statement, not a question. Connor hesitated, but nodded, releasing her hand. He took the chair on the other side of Taylor while she smiled. "Nice to meet you."

They lapsed into silence. Hayley folded her hands together in her lap, tapping her thumbs against them as she turned her eyes between Taylor and Jake. Connor watched her folded hands with interest, wondering if Taylor's hand tic was a shared family trait.

"Hey, Taylor?" The blonde had been watching Jake cook while pretending not to also be sneaking glances at her younger sister, but she turned her head now. "What do you remember about mom?"

Taylor stilled. She blinked rapidly. Jake paused where he was chopping, knife hovering over a chicken breast, but when Taylor glanced his way, he immediately went back to what he was doing.

"I mean, I thought I remembered her." Hayley looked up, her blue eyes on Taylor's face. "But you look so much like her. You sound like her."

"When you were little, I was really busy with filming, ballet, school, and everything else." Taylor smiled softly. "Whatever you remember about mom, it was probably her."

"She used to sing to me." Hayley said. They stared at each other, and Taylor pressed her lips together. "At night, before I went to sleep. As long as I could remember." Taylor lifted her drink in her hand, bringing the glass to her lips, taking a large swallow. "Tell me that wasn't you."

"That wasn't me." Taylor sat her glass back down, fingers tight around the edge. The corner of her mouth twitched, but she didn't break gazes with Hayley. Still, it was enough for Connor to know she was lying. Hayley stared back with her eyes narrowed. After a moment, however, her shoulders relaxed, and she leaned back into her chair.

"Okay." A sharp sizzle sounded from the other side of the kitchen. They both glanced over at Jake, dumping all of the things he'd chopped into a wok.

"She was a good person." Hayley turned back to find Taylor smiling at her again, though this time it was tinged with sadness. "One bad thing shouldn't erase everything else in your life."

"She was supposed to take care of us." Hayley protested. She didn't sound angry, or upset, just baffled.

"She did. The best that she could. No one is perfect." Taylor glanced down at the table. "She loved us."

Hayley turned away. A few minutes passed in silence before Jake arrived at the table, setting plates before the two of them. "Dinner is served. Chicken stir fry."

Jake crossed the kitchen to grab his own plate before rejoining them. He glanced around the table before saying, "You could try some less heavy conversation topics, you know. Most people who haven't seen each other in fourteen years start with small talk."

"Oh, piss off." Taylor speared a piece of chicken with her fork and rolled her eyes at him. "Since when do you know how to cook, anyway?"

"Since I live by myself. Eating takeout every night isn't practical." He smirked at her across the table, arching an eyebrow. "We can't all waste money on personal chefs."

"Very funny." She stuck the chicken in her mouth and chewed. After she swallowed, she said, "Well, it's not terrible."

"Oho, lofty praise!" Jake started laughing. Hayley was eating in silence, her eyes darting back and forth between her two siblings uncertainly. She froze when Taylor turned to her suddenly.

"Is he this insufferable all of the time with you?" Hayley swallowed the bite of food in her mouth. There was a moment of tension where no one said anything.

"I thought being insufferable was a Kolbeck family trait." Taylor blinked, and then started to laugh. Jake joined in, and the tension around them eased. They lapsed into conversation. Taylor asked Hayley about school. Hayley asked Taylor about the work she was doing with deviants. Jake watched them talk, throwing in an odd comment but mostly staying quiet.

Taylor tried to pull Connor into the discussion where she could. He could tell she was still nervous. Her hands were hidden under the table, but he imagined her fingers persistently tapping her knee.

They made it through dinner. Taylor hugged Jake goodbye and, after a moment of hesitation, hugged Hayley as well. She pulled Connor outside, back into the snow, smiling as she got into the taxi.

* * *

"Why did you lie?" Taylor knew Connor was watching her while she sifted through her suitcase. Sorting clothes into piles, she had one to wash and one she was carefully repacking so that she would be ready to leave in two days. Now her blue eyes jumped up, to where Connor was perched on the edge of the bed.

"About what?" Of course he knew she had lied. She threw the last few scraps of dirty laundry into the pile unceremoniously, moving on towards the bathroom.

"When Hayley asked you about your mother." He clarified, tilting his head. In his curiosity he was always determinedly persistent. She continued collecting her things that were scattered around the hotel room, sorting between things she might need before they left and things she would not.

As she stepped closer to the bed, he reached out to grip her arm, his fingers circling her wrist gently to hold her in place. Taylor looked at him then, a sigh escaping her lips. "You know, you could pretend not to notice when I lie. People do it all the time."

A frown puckered his lips, but he didn't release her. He didn't back down either. "I want to know more about you."

Taylor huffed through her nose, almost a laugh. But then she suddenly remembered that first day they met, his searching the internet for information about her. Her simple request that he didn't. He had stayed faithful to that request all of this time, even after she'd told him that it hadn't been an order. Even when he was greedy for all of her secrets.

She had selfishly grasped on to that, his ignorance of her. The novelty of someone who didn't just know her as a celebrity, who hadn't watched her every waking moment on social media or the news. Someone who didn't have preconceived notions of who she was supposed to be.

Now he did know her, the ugliest parts, the parts the cameras never got to see. Every terrible lie and anxiety, every monstrous secret. Still, here he was. She had said that she felt safe with him, but were they only words?

"I told you that my father died when Hayley was born," she began. Connor's eyebrows raised in the slightest show of surprise. Clearly, he had anticipated her dodging the question further. It made her feel more guilty than before.

"It changed my mother. There was a distance between her and Hayley. I don't know if Hayley just reminded mom of everything that happened, or if she was just too consumed by her own sadness. But she stayed away, almost as a point."

She glanced down, to where Connor's fingers were still twined around her wrist. She concentrated on the warmth of his touch while she spoke. "I was enamored with her, though. She was the only one in that house who laughed. She was the only thing that was happy. I did everything in my power to make sure she stayed that way."

Connor loosened his hold, slid his hand down and laced his fingers through hers. "When she asked, I lied because I thought it was too sad, if Hayley only remembered the bad things about mom. I didn't want her to waste time being angry. I wanted her to have one happy memory."

"Were you angry?" She glanced back up. His eyes were focused on her face, soft, intent, as he brushed his thumb along her knuckles. "At your mother?"

Taylor sighed, deep, trying to dispel the ache in her chest. "Once. A long time ago. I thought all of the things that Hayley said. Mom was supposed to take care of me, to protect me. It was her job to take care of Hayley. It was her fault." Her lips pressed into a hard line, eyebrows drawing down over her eyes. "I'm sure she thought the same things, at the end. But it was Anthony's fault. Not hers."

She hadn't realized she started to cry until Connor stood, gently thumbing at her tears with his other hand. But it was no use. All the emotion of seeing her sister again, rehashing the guilt and anger around her mother's death, just came spilling out.

She let go of his hand and slid her arms around his middle, pressing her face against his chest. His arms came up to circle her, tightening, pulling her against him. Moments passed while she regained control of herself, but as she stood in his embrace, surrounded by his warmth, his hands rubbing slow circles into her back she knew that it was true. She felt safe here, and she would have told him anything he asked.

"You should rest." He pulled away, brushing at the remnants of tears remaining on her cheeks. "You've looked tired all day long."

"Nice of you to point out." She smiled at him. But she hesitated at the earnest look on his face, the persistent touch of his fingers against her cheeks. In a smaller voice, she added, "I had a hard time sleeping. Without you here."

He stilled. The deep brown of his eyes darkened, and her heart quickened in response. Then he slowly tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "I'll stay. If you want me to. If you'll have me"

"Oh." The tips of his fingers were pressed just below her earlobe, on the rapid fluttering of her pulse. "Sure. Of course."


	37. Sleep

**My Chemical Romance - Sleep**

The muffled sound of running water was the only sound Connor heard on the other side of the bathroom door. The television was on the news station, as per usual, and he was trying to follow the ongoing story of the android protests, but he was finding it hard to pay attention. Taylor was on the other side of that door, preparing for bed.

He could hear the occasional shuffling as well, and he was trying not to focus on the noises, but since he had agreed to stay with Taylor, he had become hyper aware of everything she did. Logically, he knew he had stayed in the same room with Taylor while she slept before. She had pointed out as much. Yet this time, somehow, it felt different.

The door clicked open. He'd become lost in his train of thought and not realized when the water cut off. Taylor stepped out of the bathroom clad in a matching camisole and short pajama set. Her cheeks were flushed a rosy pink, and she darted over to the bed to slide beneath the covers immediately.

He watched all of this with interest, unable to speak from the moment she appeared. She glanced over at him, her face still a bright shade of red, and raised her eyebrows. "You could at least take off your jacket, you know."

Her tone was tinged with amusement. He looked down at the jacket and tie he was still wearing. Conceding, he slid out of the coat and loosened his tie, crossing the room to hang both of them so they wouldn't wrinkle. Then he rolled his sleeves to the elbow and slid under the blankets with her.

She was watching him, her blue eyes dark in the dim lights. As he settled in across from her, she slid closer. Despite the warmth in her cheeks, her fingers were cold to the touch when she found his hand.

"Thanks for staying," she said softly. Connor nodded, unsure what to else to say. She stared at him for a moment before she said, "You can come closer. If you want."

He didn't realize he had wanted it until she said it, but he didn't hesitate to scoot against her. He released her hand, sliding his fingers along her arm and tucking his arm around her waist. She pressed closer still, nestling her head against his shoulder, her leg curled against his.

Tucked into the circle of his arms, lying side by side, he could appreciate how much smaller she was than him. Taylor was fairly tall, only a few inches shorter than him, but where he was broad, she was delicate. She fit against him, every soft curve molding into his frame. He would have been content to hold on to her forever.

"Is this okay?" She asked, uncertain. Her arm rested lightly around his middle, but she was tensed, ready to pull away again. Though he couldn't see her face, he could still read the rapid drumming of her heart in her chest.

"Yes." Connor wished he could make her understand the way he felt with her in his arms. He knew his thirium pump was pulsing faster than normal, like it was trying to keep time with her erratic human heart. She relaxed then, and he said, "Go to sleep."

She laughed softly against his chest, but she didn't say anything back. He could sense when her heart rate started to slow, her breathing even out. Exhaustion stole over her quickly and she fell into sleep.

He knew he should put himself into rest mode as well, but he was enjoying the feel of Taylor against him. He thought back to his first night as a deviant, after the destruction of Jericho, when she had fallen asleep in his lap, her breath warm against his neck, and the feeling of belonging he had felt.

He tried not to count the minutes passing by, focusing on the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the slow rhythm of her heart. Eventually, he gave in and let himself slide into low power mode, his consciousness fading.

Connor came to abruptly several hours later. Taylor was twisting in his arms, her jerking motions bringing him back to consciousness. His arms tightened reflexively as she flailed, which only made her struggle more. It only took a few seconds to realize she was still asleep. He called her name, over and over, trying to wake her.

She jerked away as her eyes finally opened, breathing hard, pushing at his arms and still trying to get further away. When he released her, she scrambled to the edge of the bed. Sitting up, he watched her hunch over, shoulders shaking. He hesitated, scanning the rapid rate of her heartbeat and breathing, wanting to reach for her.

"Taylor." She flinched when he spoke. Then she finally turned to face him, her hands pressed over her mouth, holding in her scream. She lowered them into her lap. The light from the television flickered across her face, her widened eyes.

"I'm sorry." He shook his head, reaching for her. She wavered, then slid against him, still shivering. "I'm sorry. I had a nightmare."

She was speaking into his shirt. He could feel her breathing, trying to slow it down, breathing in her nose. He slid his hands gently up and down her back. "It's okay."

Taylor shook her head, burrowing into his chest, still taking deep breaths in her nose. After a minute, she said, "I forgot you were here with me."

His hands stilled on her lower back. She didn't move, just kept her forehead pressed into him. He registered the time, that it had only been a couple of hours since she had fallen asleep. "What was your nightmare about?"

Her breathing hitched for a moment. Then she relaxed again and said, "I don't remember."

Even without seeing her expression, Connor had the sense that she was lying, but he didn't push it. She wasn't shaking anymore, so he pulled away enough to see her face. "You should try to sleep."

"Okay." She allowed him to pull her back down with him. When they were lying side by side, she rolled over onto her other side and scooted closer until her back was pressed against his chest. He tucked his arm around her, and she folded her arm over his.

Still, it was a long time before she fell back to sleep.

* * *

Taylor huddled into her coat as she wandered through the headstones. She'd managed to find a scarf and gloves, but even with them on she could barely feel her fingers. Tucking the bit of cloth up over her nose, she shoved her hands as deep into her pockets as they would go. Still, she didn't walk any faster.

She'd chosen the long way around, gazing up at the overcast sky and wondering if it was going to start snowing soon. There was a bite to the air that suggested it might, but thankfully no wind. Not yet.

Connor had gone back to Hank's early in the morning at her suggestion. They had arranged for his suits to be delivered there, she insisted, and he had to see them off before the two of them left for Washington. She was only going to be doing laundry. Those beautiful brown eyes had looked back at her, creased in worry, but he had eventually conceded.

She had done laundry. She couldn't lie to him, after all, and to try was pointless. She'd checked in with Alex for the day, went out for her run, then for breakfast. All of her errands compacted into a couple of hours, until she took a taxi here.

Her feet had taken her in a circle around the perimeter of the cemetery three times now, down several rows that were far away from her real destination. The muscles in her legs were still sore from her run, screaming in protest with every step. All she could think of was crawling back into a taxi and riding back to the hotel to soak in a hot bath.

Not another soul around, she drew to a stop in the middle of a row of gravestones, turning her head. Soaking in the silence, she closed her eyes, a deep sigh filling her chest. Then she reopened them and set off across the rows in a straight line toward her parents' graves.

The sight of the headstone was not what she expected. It looked normal, the Kolbeck name at the top, her mother and father's names and the dates they died. Side by side. Someone had been here, had taken care of the site, had even left flowers recently. She wondered if it was Jake or Hayley.

The emotions she expected didn't come. The scarf had slid down from her nose, small clouds of breath pillowing in front of her face in the cold, and she just stared. After a while, her legs still protesting, she eased herself down to the ground and sat across from the graves, waiting. She didn't know what for.

The hush of the cemetery pressed in, not even permeated by the usual Detroit traffic thanks to the evacuation. Sitting cross-legged in the quiet, her insides scraped hollow, she could have been the only person in the world. Her fingers, clenched inside her coat pockets, were numb, her nose like an icicle hanging from her face.

Taylor didn't know how much time had passed before her phone started ringing. The abrupt noise was an explosion in the silence, making her physically jump. She had silenced her phone to everyone but Alex, because she had promised, so she scrambled with her clumsily frozen fingers to answer before the call diverted to voicemail.

"Hello?"

"Where are you?" The question threw her off and she tried to gauge his tone. He didn't sound angry, or worried, but there was a recognizable tension in his voice that made her feel like she was in trouble.

"In Detroit still?" She answered uncertainly. He made a frustrated noise. The vague sound of him juggling the phone from ear to ear came over the receiver and she wondered, guiltily, if she was interrupting his family time again.

"Where at in Detroit? Connor just called me because he cannot find you. Apparently, you were supposed to be at the hotel. Markus has been trying to get in touch with you. He checked with Jake and then he tried me because he thought you would answer my call."

"Well, he was right." She tried to make it sound light, like a joke, but she had pulled the phone away from her ear to count the number of missed calls. Inside her head she was cursing.

"Taylor, you told me you were going to do better. This feels a lot like being reckless." He sighed into the earpiece. She could still hear him moving around, and then Emily started to cry in the background.

"I'm at the cemetery." She said in a small voice. The dread that had built up in her chest drained away into guilt. The time on her phone told her that she had been sitting here for longer than she realized. Hours. Staring into nothing. "I just wanted to be alone. For a little while."

The first snowflake swirled into her vision, drifting down to land on her sleeve, where it quickly melted away. Alex was silent on the line for what felt like an eternity, Emily's cries permeating the call, before he said, "I'm going to tell Connor where you are. Please, just stay there. I'll call you later."

"Okay." The call ended as well as the soft infant crying in her ear. She shoved her hand, phone and all, back in her pocket. A shiver rippled up her spine, but she couldn't feel the cold, just her numb hands and face, her teeth chattering. Hunching her shoulders, she settled in to wait.

Connor arrived in record time. She had expected nothing less, but it wasn't hard to appreciate his arrival in the quiet that surrounded her. When she looked up, he was fast approaching through the rows of headstones. He had changed, she realized, out of his CyberLife uniform, into one of the new suits. It was the only thought that registered before he was upon her.

He knelt, his hands on her upper arms, his face leaning close to hers, scanning her. There was snow already clinging to the soft brown of his hair, his eyelashes as they fluttered with his eyes jumping over her. That little furrow appeared between his eyebrows, his hands sliding up to her shoulders, and every touch, every look was fire burning through the cold.

"Are you okay?" His LED was flashing red, but outwardly he seemed calm, tilting his head slightly as he asked the question. She attempted to smile for him, but it felt wrong, and it only deepened the look of concern he was giving her.

"I'm fine. I lost track of time." His gaze shifted to the headstone for the briefest of seconds before he stood, holding his hands out to her to help her up. She stared at them for a moment, and he hesitated.

"You're very cold." She placed her hand in his, and she could feel the warmth even through the thick knit of her gloves. He tugged her to her feet, and she stumbled forward into his chest, her legs completely numb. He supported her weight effortlessly while she shifted on her feet, trying to gain her bearings as pins and needles crawled up her calves.

"I'm sorry I made you worry." She couldn't look at him when she said it. Connor reached up and touched her face, drawing her eyes back to his.

"You told me you were going to be at the hotel. I wasn't worried at first, but Markus contacted me and said he had been trying to call you." He leaned in and pressed his forehead against hers. "Jake hadn't heard from you either. Of course I was worried."

She reached up and circled her arms around his neck. His LED had flickered back to yellow; he must have decided she was alright. He slid his arms around her waist, encompassing her in warmth.

"Do you want to stay longer?" His voice was gentle when he spoke.

"No." She sighed softly. "Did Markus tell you what he wanted?"

"He wanted you to come to CyberLife. There's something he needed to show you." Connor frowned, his brow creasing again. She pulled him down and placed a kiss at the corner of his mouth, lingering for just a few seconds.

"Let's go," she said, pulling away just as he was tightening his hold.


	38. bury a friend

**Billie Eilish – bury a friend**

Connor drove slowly through the Detroit streets, mindful of the snow. Taylor hadn't commented on the fact that he'd commandeered her car, just settled into the passenger seat for the ride. He tried to focus on the road, the unsafe conditions demanding his attention, but his eyes kept jumping to the right.

Curled into the seat, she was facing slightly away from him, staring out the window. No matter how many scans he ran, she appeared in perfect health. Her expression was completely blank. Still, she hadn't said anything to him since they left the cemetery.

The spire of the CyberLife tower was rising in the distance. He had an unsettled feeling as they drew closer. Perhaps he was simply remembering the last time he was here. Maybe it had more to do with the tone Markus had used when he said he needed Taylor to come. Whatever the case, he knew he was being irrational.

He pulled up to the building, right up to the doors, not seeing a reason not to. Besides, it was still snowing, and he didn't want Taylor to have to be outside in the cold for too long when she had just gotten warm.

Taylor exited the car, heading straight inside, leaving him to trail behind. When he entered the lobby, she had her head tilted back, staring up into the rows of glass paneled windows. As he came up behind her, she whispered, "I can't even see the top. I wonder if Elijah designed this place."

She frowned as she said it. He stepped closer to her, placing a hand on the small of her back. "Come on."

They made their way toward the elevator. Markus had already told him what floor to meet him on. There was a scattering of androids moving around the building. It appeared as though the previous occupants had been ordered to leave quite abruptly, and androids were picking up and reorganizing everywhere he looked.

The elevator doors slid closed, insulating them in silence. Connor's hand was still pressed lightly against her back, and he considered whether to let it fall away or to slide it around her waist. She had put her hands in her pockets, staring straight ahead, lost in thought.

They moved through the floors quickly, and before he could decide what to do with his hand, the doors pinged softly open. Taylor glanced around, then looked up at him expectantly. He knew from blueprints that they had arrived in research and development, but Markus hadn't been any more specific on where to find him.

"About time." Connor turned his head as they stepped out of the elevator. The redhead was perched up against the wall, arms crossed over her chest, a look of thinly veiled disdain on her face. North.

"I'm sorry I made you wait so long." Taylor immediately apologized. North frowned at her.

"Yes, well. I think this whole thing was unnecessary, but Markus insisted." She looked down her nose at them, and the blonde shrunk away almost subconsciously. North seemed to sigh. "I suppose you did help us. Follow me."

She glanced between them before turning on her heel and walking off. They immediately followed, sensing she would leave them behind without a second thought. Connor finally pulled his hand away from Taylor, allowing her to walk a couple of steps ahead of him while he took in their surroundings.

There appeared to be all variety of labs that they were passing. He was reading descriptions on the door plaques as they walked. In the few open doorways, he spotted a couple of mid-production androids in various stages of development. He found himself wondering if Markus had found any other Connor models. He already knew he wasn't the only one.

Surely that wasn't the reason they were here now, though. Markus had wanted Taylor specifically. He couldn't imagine what the deviant leader could have found, but he had to reason that if it involved other RK800 androids he would have just asked Connor himself to come.

Markus was waiting at the end of the hallway for them, his hands tucked behind his back. He nodded to North as they approached and then smiled at Taylor, who smiled in return. He spotted Connor over her shoulder and offered him a nod as well.

"Thank you for coming." He shifted his two-toned gaze back to the blonde, giving her a once over. "I trust everything is well?"

"Yes, thank you." North rolled her eyes and turned to go, not even bothering to say goodbye to any of them. Taylor followed her with her eyes before she turned back. "Though I suppose that depends on why I'm here?"

"Right." Markus faltered, and his sudden hesitation made her smile fade away. Connor suddenly wished he had stayed at her side, his hand still pressed against her. "It's sort of hard to explain. It's better if I show you."

Markus turned to enter the doors behind him, but Taylor still stood there. Connor could sense the rapid ticking of her heart and was about to step forward when she turned, reaching a hand back for him. He tried to mask his surprise, sliding his hand into hers and gently squeezing her fingers. He led her through the door before Markus could noticed their pause.

The room they stepped into looked just like the other research labs they had passed along the way. Meticulously clean and organized. Sterile. Though this one did appear to see more recent use than some of the others. There were a few androids in charge stations along the right wall as they walked further in.

Markus stopped in front of them and turned, raising his arm in a half wave to gesture behind him. Taylor froze mid-step, and her fingers went slack in his hand. Connor heard her sharp intake of breath as he finally took in what she had seen. His LED flickered to red, circled there for several seconds.

There, standing in an android charge station apart from everything else, was an android. Not just any android, a Chloe. Connor scanned it, but he couldn't find any model or serial number attached to it. The longer he looked at it, the more he realized that it didn't look like the other ST200 or even the original RT600 he had seen at Elijah Kamski's house.

No, as Connor glanced to his left, to Taylor's rapidly paling face, he knew that it most closely resembled the original herself. The android didn't even have a telltale LED at its temple. Taylor took another careful step forward, reaching out. Then she stopped, her hand still well short, unable to touch it.

Connor scanned the android again. It was a perfect replica, down to the measurement. As an android, he certainly could not get sick, but he felt something akin to nausea churning through his biocomponents as he thought of what must have gone into making the machine in front of them.

Taylor's hands were shaking, and she folded her arms over her middle, tucking them into her sides. Her brow was creased, but the rest of her face was blank as she stared at the look-a-like. "How?"

"According to the research notes," Markus began, looking relieved to have something to say. He had been watching Taylor's reaction, his face full of apprehension, his shoulders tensed. "They were able to build an identical copy of you by reconstruction through photographs and videos. There is no shortage of those available."

Taylor seemed to sway on her feet, but Connor immediately put his arm around the middle of her back, steadying her. Now that he was touching her, he could feel her hands clenching and unclenching into her coat. She was trying to hide it.

"There is a detailed log on the progress with the model that ends several weeks ago, so they were working on this fairly recently." Markus told them, glancing between the two but settling back on Taylor's face.

"He was going to replace me with her." She said quietly. This made Markus raise his eyebrows in disbelief, and Connor suspected he wasn't fully aware of the situation between Taylor and Anthony Jacobsen. Connor recalled the night of Hart Plaza, the bruises fresh on her neck, when she had told him the same thing. Anthony wanted to replace her with a Chloe.

"It has never been activated. It is not programmed with any of the default personality modules." Markus looked behind him, at the android, and back to Taylor. He seemed at a loss for what else to say.

"Can we use it as evidence?" Connor turned toward Taylor, his own eyebrows raising in surprise. He could still feel her hands clenching, her eyes hadn't moved from the immobile android, but there was a note of determination in her voice. "Against my stepfather."

She turned her head then to meet his gaze, and he realized she must be directing the question to him. The detective android. Yet he was distracted by the wide-eyed terror in her eyes that he could see now that she was facing him. His fingers tightened on her arm, but he held himself still. She was trying not to fall apart in front of Markus.

"You want to turn this over to the Detroit Police?" Markus sounded aghast at the idea, but Taylor ignored him. She was intent on waiting for Connor to answer her question, and Connor was trying to communicate with just his eyes that this was going to be okay.

"These research notes," Connor began, finally tearing his eyes away. If he kept looking at her, he would give in to his desire to pull her against him, whether or not Markus was watching. The deviant leader had walked in on them kissing, after all, and implied he knew all about Connor's feelings the last time the two spoke. "Do they say anything about the intended use of this android?"

"No. They were all written by the scientists who were working on the project. Any mention of Anthony Jacobsen is few and far between." Markus considered for a moment. "I suppose there may be something in his office, in his private things."

"Without proof of intent, the evidence is weak at best." Connor said. "If you would let me search through Anthony's office—"

"I'll do it." Markus waved him off. He was still watching Taylor's blank face with concern. "We could also try activating it. There may be something inherent in its programming."

Her head snapped back around, and she shook it no vigorously. She stared at the machine in horror, as though she was imagining it coming to life with her face, speaking with her voice. The idea unnerved Connor as well.

"Let's leave it for now." He said. Markus nodded his assent. He looked her over again, and whatever he was going to say next, he reconsidered.

"At least send a copy of the notes to Gavin." Taylor persisted. "Without the android, some of it must corroborate what I said in my statement and what Anthony said himself about replacing me with a Chloe."

"Gavin?" Markus said, perplexed.

"Detective Gavin Reed," Connor elaborated. "He is the lead detective on Taylor's case against her stepfather." He glanced back to Taylor. "It certainly won't hurt your case."

"I'll make it happen." Markus stepped forward, reached for her. Taylor's arms were still curled around herself, so he rested his hand lightly on her shoulder. He gestured to the room around them, but was implying the greater building when he said, "Thank you for making this happen, Taylor."

"Thank you for showing me this." Taylor managed to nod. Connor knew that he was a prototype, equipped with an advanced social module that could interpret subtle facial expressions. But he couldn't fathom that Markus wasn't picking up on any of the panic eating through the blonde at his side.

"We should go." Connor moved his arm along her back, sliding a hand over her clenching fingers and tugging her against his side. "Taylor needs to finish packing for tomorrow."

"Of course." Markus had tried to cover up his surprise as he dropped his hand, but of course Connor had seen it. He didn't much care as he steered Taylor back toward the doors. She didn't have the strength to protest, didn't even say goodbye. She was perfectly malleable to his direction as they reached the elevator.

The doors slid closed. He felt the shudder go through her as he turned, wrapping his other arm around her, burying his face into her hair. The tension drained out of her muscles, leaving her shivering against his chest. She was mumbling, and it took him a few seconds to distinguish the words. '_I'm sorry_' over and over again.

"It's okay. Taylor, you're okay." He scanned her again, her erratically high heartrate, her hands still clenching and unclenching into her coat. Small drops of perspirations were beading on her forehead. She was hyperventilating, her muttered words getting lost in her frantic breathing. She was having a full-blown panic attack, he realized, his own dread start to rise.

Connor pulled away from her. He placed both hands on her face, cupping her cheeks. "Taylor, look at me. Please."

Her eyes shifted up to his face just as the elevator reached the lobby. He ignored it, focused on her blue eyes, wide and full of fear. "Breathe with me."

He didn't know if this would work. He just knew that if she didn't slow down her breathing very soon that she was going to pass out, and he had watched her do her own deep breathing to battle her anxiety time and time again. He also knew that she didn't have her bag with her, that it had been back at the hotel, one of the other reasons he had been worried when she wasn't there, so he couldn't give her any of her medication.

So he drew a deep breath of air in through his nose and held it. It was unnecessary for him to breathe. He didn't need oxygen to survive, but he could simulate everything that a human could do in order to better integrate. It was one of his features.

He almost released the breath in relief when Taylor finally followed his lead, taking a slow breath in her nose. She faltered halfway, gasping for air, but tried again. He held his initial breath until she finally managed, then slowly released it. He leaned in, pressed his forehead against hers, took in another breath.

The doors to the elevator closed on them, tired of waiting for their exit. After several breaths, she was matching him decently on pace. She had shut her eyes, but as the minutes passed, with every breath he could feel her heartrate slowing.

"Connor." He didn't know when he had closed his eyes too, but he opened them at the sound of her voice. She was peering up into his face, eyes still wide but less afraid. Slowly, she reached her hand up and tucked her fingers into the crook of his elbow. They were still shaking. "We can go now."

She pulled his hand away from her face. They were standing in the elevator, so Connor reached for the button to open the doors, pulling away from her. Taylor shifted to stand beside him, wrapping both of her shaking hands around his arm as they stepped back into the lobby.

"Are you sure you're alright?" He watched in his peripherals as she stumbled a step but kept moving, leaning into him. A couple of androids had turned to look, still curious at the idea of a human in their midst no doubt, but Taylor didn't notice. She just nodded.

He reached his other hand over and placed it over her fingers, clenched claw-like into his arm. They relaxed just a little. She mumbled an apology, but he shook his head. He couldn't feel pain, after all.

They were across the lobby. He could see the car just where he'd left it, pulled to the front of the doors. Connor opened the passenger side door for her and handed her inside. She looked up at him, her face pale, and he struggled to close the door.

By the time he walked around and slid into the driver's seat, she was staring into her lap, where she'd tucked both of her trembling hands. Her shoulders were huddled forward. He must have been staring at her for longer than he realized, his hands inert on the steering wheel, because she finally glanced up again and met his eyes.

"It's okay, Connor." She dipped her head again and he found it hard to believe. In a smaller voice, she said, "I'm okay. Can we go, please?"

Unsure what else he could do, he started the car and shifted it into gear, driving them away from the CyberLife building.

* * *

Taylor felt the sluggishness in her limbs as she sorted through her piles of clothes, trying to pack her suitcase. Connor had not been lying to Markus when he said that she still needed to finish getting ready for their flight tomorrow, which was leaving at an ungodly hour of the morning. So no matter how much she just wanted to curl into a ball on the bed, she couldn't. Not yet.

Still, it felt like she was moving through water, like someone had put weights on her arms and legs. Connor had insisted she take her Xanax when they got back to the hotel room. She had still been shaking. She agreed because he looked so worried, so at a loss on what to do for her, and she couldn't bear the guilt.

The familiar fog had wrapped around her mind. She hated it. The feeling of being here but not here. And the worst part was that the fear was still there, compartmentalized in her head, just enclosed behind frosted glass, indistinct. No amount of medicine could take it away. That much she had learned a long time ago.

That, and Connor was still there, still worried. She felt like she was moving in slow motion and she could feel his eyes following her. He'd offered to help, to pack for her, to do anything. But there was nothing he could do.

"Your phone." Taylor looked up. Connor had leaned closer, holding her cellphone out to her, and she realized that it was ringing. The frown on his face deepened as she blinked at it. Alex's name was flashing on the screen.

"Answer it?" She knew she couldn't talk to Alex like this. Just like she couldn't ignore his call. "Tell him I went to bed early. Because of the flight."

Connor hesitated, his eyes widening. The phone kept ringing, and when she didn't bother to reach for it, he obliged her request and answered it. He turned away. Her mind was too blurry to focus, and she kept tucking the last of her clothes into her suitcase, not knowing if he had lied for her or told the truth.

Sliding the zipper closed, she realized she was finished. Nothing left to do.

She lifted her head. Connor was watching her again. The phone was inert on the bed beside him. Staring into his eyes, she tried to remember the time when he had no emotions at all, or if that time had ever existed.

"I'm always like this." The words came out without her thinking about them. He blinked. Tilted his head. Puzzled by her, as always. Maybe that was the real reason he stayed, fascinated by her idiosyncrasies. Well, she would give him another clue if that's what he wanted.

"In here." She reached her hand up, touched her fingers to her temple. "Always afraid." Her mind was still hazy. She should stop talking, but she couldn't. It was like being drunk, but less happy. "There's nothing you can do."

The crease in his brow smoothed over. He stared back into her eyes for a few long seconds, taking in every detail of her face, probably scanning her again. Then he raised his hand out toward her, palm upward, reaching, and waited.

It was her turned to be puzzled, looking at his offered hand. He didn't say anything. He didn't respond to her words. Her eyes flickered back up to his face, and he raised his eyebrows just slightly. He wanted her to come closer.

She hesitated. For all of a second. Then her feet were moving. The room was so small, it only took a couple of steps, as slow as she felt. Her hand reached out for his. Their fingers brushed together.

Connor moved too fast for her to see, but she felt his hand moving along her arm, felt both of his arms tighten around her as he lifted her from the floor. All she could manage was a gasp before she was on the bed with him hovering just over her. She swore her heart stopped.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said firmly as he moved away, shifting his weight to the side. She reached up, grabbed him. Off balance, he fell into the bed next to her, his left arm still trapped under her back. She curled herself against him, crossing her arm over his chest and tucking her leg over his thighs, pinning him there.

He stayed very still. She could feel the thumping of his thirium pump, fast, irregular. Was he nervous, because of her? He always looked so composed, she couldn't always tell. He moved his arm, finally, circled it around her back. With his other hand, he slid his fingers along her forearm, up toward her shoulder, drawing goosebumps the whole way.

"Was this your way of telling me to go to sleep?"

"It seemed easier than arguing." Taylor smiled into his shoulder.

"Do you plan on ending all of our arguments this way?" She had closed her eyes, but she was imagining the familiar smirk on his face. His fingers were still gently stroking along her arm.

"Do you plan on doing a lot of arguing?" A sigh swept through her. Her hand fisted into his jacket. She wanted to pull herself up, to kiss him. The panic attack, the medication fogging her thoughts, she felt like a shell. Drained of life. Walking through mud. So she relaxed her fingers.

"Maybe you're right. This time." He laughed softly. It was a majestic sound. The rumble of it vibrated through his chest, moved through the shell of her, filled her with warmth. "Can I stay here?"

She hadn't meant to say it, just mumbled it into his chest as she burrowed closer. Connor's hand stilled, his arm relaxing onto hers, his fingers curling around her elbow and staying there. "As long as you like."


	39. I Don't Care

**Fall Out Boy – I Don't Care**

Connor was observing Taylor as she stood in the bathroom, applying her makeup in the mirror over the sink. It was a fascinating process to watch. Right now, she had one eye closed as she carefully swept eyeliner along her lash line. Though she had shown up to the investigation every day with her makeup fully done, for days she hadn't bothered to wear any.

"I'm almost done," she said as she worked on the other eye.

"I like your face without it," he told her. She paused, her hand lowering reflexively, and turned her head to look at him. Her cheeks warmed and she turned back, continuing on.

"Thank you." She cleared her throat. "I've gotten away with it because there's hardly anyone here in Detroit to notice me when I do go out and I haven't posted on the internet in a while either. Much to Alex's chagrin, I'm sure."

"Couldn't you decide not to wear it? If that's what you wanted?" Connor tilted his head. She smiled then, just slightly, reaching for a tube of lipstick.

"We're going back to the real world today." She said, as if that explained anything. "People expect me to look a certain way."

Pressing her lips together, she turned back to him and smiled. Her lips were a deep coral now, but her nose crinkled when she took in his expression. "Oh, don't look at me like that. It's part of my job."

He hadn't realized his brow was creased, lips turned down in a frown. He smoothed his features while she tucked the lipstick in her pocket and stepped closer to him. Reaching her hand out, she waited with it outstretched until his fingers closed around hers.

"Thank you, for yesterday." Her blue eyes stayed on his face. She reached up and tucked the errant strands of hair off of his forehead. "I already knew that he wanted to replace me, but seeing it made it real all over again. It was just as terrifying as when he tried to kill me. I didn't mean to panic on you."

"You don't have to apologize for being afraid." Connor squeezed her hand, then reached his other hand up to place on her waist. He pulled her closer, until she was standing between his knees. "Promise me something?"

"Depends on the something," she said, smiling again. It faded a little when she noticed how serious he was. "What?"

"When we get to Washington D.C., take me with you. Wherever you go." Her eyes widened. She opened her mouth, he assumed to protest, but he persisted. "Don't go off alone. Please."

She pressed her lips together. In the moment of silence where she considered him, she kept her eyes fixed on his. Finally, she sighed and said, "Okay. I promise."

Taylor turned away, stepping back into the bathroom to pack up the last of her makeup and toiletries. He watched her place it in her suitcase and cross the room again, to the unopened package on the nightstand. She had gone downstairs to pick it up from the desk when she woke up.

It was from Alex, she told him at the time, from Los Angeles. The box was small, just a couple of inches wide and around a foot across. If it held her belongings, it certainly didn't hold much. She picked it up, working at the corner of the flap with her fingers. He was curious to know what was so important that it needed to be sent overnight.

She struggled with the box for several minutes. He was just about to offer his help when she finally succeeded, nearly ripping the first flap completely off the box in the process. The rest was easy, and she slid the contents onto the bed a moment later: three spiral-bound notebooks and several folders.

"Oh good, he managed to send the right ones." She picked up the one on top, thumbed through a few pages before she was content to pick up the whole stack and carry them to her suitcase.

"What are they?" She looked up just as she was pulling the zipper closed again.

"Stories. Deviant stories that I've collected. With permission." She lifted the bag off the chair and headed toward the door, but he stood and intercepted her, taking it from her hands. "I don't know if they'll be of any use, but I wanted to have them."

"You hand wrote them?"

"Most of the subjects didn't want to be on camera or be identified in any way. It seemed like the easiest way." She offered him a wry smile as they exited the hotel room. When the elevator doors slid closed, she was still staring off down the hallway. "I'm going to miss this."

Connor glanced over, and she must have read the confusion in his eyes, for she smiled softly and said, "Being here, just you and me." Turning her head, she stared forward into the silver panels of the elevator doors. "Don't get me wrong. Parts of this past couple weeks has been terrible. But I almost don't want to go back."

"Do you like being famous?" She faced him again, a perplexed look passing over her face. The elevator pinged softly as they reached the lobby and the doors slid open. They crossed the lobby together, and he said, "You always talk about it as though you don't particularly enjoy it."

The taxi was idling on the curb, waiting for them. Connor loaded Taylor's bags into the back while she waited for him. She hadn't answered his question, but when he glanced at her face, she looked like she was thinking it over, staring at her shoes, hands shoved in her pockets.

He closed the trunk and came back around to open the door for her. When he joined her inside the cab, she slid closer, pressing into his side. With her head, against his shoulder, she said, "I don't know how to answer that. It's like asking you if you like being an RK800. I didn't choose to become famous. My baby pictures were in tabloids."

She reached over and tucked her hand into his, twining their fingers together. "Being famous is a part of me. It's who I am." She paused again, stayed quiet for a few minutes. "I don't hate it. I don't know if I like it, either. I can't imagine being anything else."

He frowned, but she hadn't moved her head from his shoulder. He couldn't see the expression on her face. "Will you go back Los Angeles when this is over?"

Taylor didn't say anything for a long time. He calculated the route to the airport and knew they would be arriving soon. She had told him that they would be taking a private plane to Washington. The time where they would be alone together really was dwindling away into nothing.

"I have to." The lights of the airport were just coming into view when she finally spoke. A plane passed low over the highway, circling to land. The taxi merged toward the exit seamlessly, no other cars around them on the road.

"You could stay." He was running his thumb back and forth along her knuckles. She sucked in a breath but stayed still against his side. They were drawing closer to the main terminal now, passing under the lights.

She finally shifted away, enough so she could turn her head to look up at him. Her fingers were still tangled with his as she came closer, her face leaning in. Her lips brushed against his, and he pressed closer, deepening the kiss.

Pulling away, she smiled and reached her other hand up. Her thumb traced the outline of his lip, wiping a smudge of lipstick away. There was still a touch of sadness in her face when she said, "I can't stay in Detroit."

The car was rolling to a stop. Connor tightened his hold on her hand before she moved to get out of the taxi. "You're going to leave."

"I have to go home eventually." Her words came out stilted, uncertain. A pained look came to her face. "Detroit hasn't been my home for a long time." She reached up, touched his LED, and he realized it was pulsing yellow. "Come on, we're going to be late."

She pulled her hand out of his and moved for the door, leaving him to follow.

* * *

Taylor rested her head against the seatback, closing her eyes. Both hands were folded in her lap, and she was twiddling her thumbs distractedly. The plane was just beginning its descent into Washington D.C., but thanks to Connor she had only been able to think about one thing for the entirety of the flight.

The size of the plane had delegated that he sat behind her, so she couldn't see him, but she could imagine he was still watching. One of the men who they had rendezvoused with at the airport was seated across the aisle from her, perfectly straight in his seat. There was a second man behind him, in the seat across from Connor, who she could just see if she turned her head.

"We'll be landing soon. Sit tight." She faced the front again, nodding. Better to pretend she'd been anxious about landing. Not the android in the seat behind her. She couldn't stay in Detroit. Right?

Her home was in Los Angeles. Her career, her whole life. Everything she'd built from the remnants of a life that had been left to her when she was fourteen. Still she had constructed it, brick by brick, into something livable again. A place where she could walk down the street and be in the sunlight, not be afraid.

She closed her eyes again, frowning as Connor's face instantly appeared behind her eyelids. The expression he'd given when she said she had to go back. How was it fair that he could so casually point out that maybe she wasn't as happy as she pretended to be, then make her feel so guilty about wanting to go home?

She didn't want to leave him. Just the thought of it made her chest ache. Staying in Detroit just wasn't an option. She couldn't ask him to come with her, she couldn't be that selfish. He had Hank too.

"Could you fasten your seatbelt, please?" Taylor blinked her eyes open. The man on her right was speaking to her again. Her hands fumbled over the belt, and she snapped it closed. A glance out of the window showed the outlines of the Washington, D.C. skyline coming into view as the plane descended.

"Secretary Headley has arranged a car to take you from the airport. She wants to meet you in person." He was watching her uncertainly, probably gauging whether she was actually listening to him or not.

"Right. I'm sorry, did you tell me your name before?" He hesitated, more taken aback by the question. Then he shook his head.

"No ma'am. It's Frank."

"Thank you, Frank. Please just call me Taylor." She smiled at him. "Do you work for Secretary Headley?"

"Yes ma'am." He flushed, and her smile widened. "I mean, Taylor."

"Any tips on meeting your boss? All I could glean from our phone conversations is that she's very serious and she likes to hang up on people."

"She doesn't like to waste time." Frank's mouth curved into a half smile of amusement. The plane shuddered as they touched down on the runway. Taylor braced her hands on the arm rests, but he kept talking, "She doesn't like frivolities. She'll be inclined not to like you."

"Good news. I'm used to that."

* * *

The sun was just rising as they left the airport, rays of sunlight bouncing like a halo off of Taylor's blonde hair while the man known as Frank pushed her forward toward the waiting car. There were people lined up, shouting her name, and she had ducked her head to follow the other one who had told them his name was David just before they stepped off the plane. Connor was trailing this unlikely precession, unsure how to respond to what was happening.

She was slightly breathless by the time they slid into the backseat of the black sedan. It was not a self-driving car. Frank jumped into the driver's seat and started the engine while David climbed into the passenger side, cursing.

The car started to pull away. Connor glanced over at Taylor, who had taken to staring out the window. He scanned her but found nothing amiss. She was remarkably calm given the circumstances and hadn't seemed phased by the frantic people waiting to greet them as they crossed the tarmac.

He supposed it was just more inherent with her celebrity that he had not yet been exposed to. She had warned him that things would be different here. David was still muttering to himself in the front seat.

"Someone always knows, don't they? Rubbish."

"No use complaining about it. Most of those people probably didn't even know what was happening or who was showing up." Frank glanced at the blonde woman in the rearview, but if she was listening to their conversation, she didn't give any indications. "We'll be there shortly, Miss Taylor."

"Thank you, Frank." Taylor turned back and smiled at him. Listening after all. She glanced at Connor, but when she noticed his stare, went back to watching the window. Her phone started buzzing in her pocket and she pulled it free, occupying herself with the tiny screen for the rest of the car ride.

Just as they were pulling to a stop, she looked up at him again. Her eyebrows raised, just slightly, and she nudged him with her knee. "You ready?"

"For what?" Connor blinked, uncertain. She smiled again, her eyes crinkling, but didn't answer.

"We're here." David announced from his spot in the front, opening the car door. Taylor shifted away again, opening her own door and stepping out before either of them could open it for her. Connor followed immediately, keeping her locked in his sights.

Frank led the way into the building ahead, while David hovered behind, bringing up the rear. While Connor was scanning their surroundings, he realized that both humans were doing the same, in their own way.

"Are you going to be with us the whole time?" Taylor voiced the question he had just been considering himself. Frank glanced over his shoulder briefly but was busy showing credentials to the building security. Once they were through and on their way to the elevators, he answered her.

"I'm not sure. We were only told to deliver you here." They rode up in silence. Connor had gleaned by the high levels of security that they were definitely in a government building. He had also noticed a definite absence of androids since they had entered.

The elevator pinged, and Frank led them onward, down a long hallway. People gave off the distinct air of frantic energy as the hurried past, ducking between offices with tablets and files in hand. Only a couple seemed to notice their passing, pausing to stare at Taylor in surprise. One young man stumbled, then turned his head to watch them walk on with his mouth open in shock.

Connor drew closer to her side. He thought he could physically feel the eyes following her as she moved, a strange paranoia that was new to his senses, but Taylor didn't seem to be bothered by them. Neither of their human escorts were paying much attention either, at a glance, still heading toward their destination with singular focus.

In their defense, people moved to the side as they saw Frank approach, even if they noticed the blonde woman trailing behind. No one dared make an attempt to slow or stop them. One right turn and a short hallway brought them before an office.

The door was open, so Frank knocked on the doorframe as he stepped inside. The woman seated behind the desk looked up from her computer and frowned. "You're late."

"We received a bigger reception at the airport than anticipated." Secretary Alexis Headley stood, her dark brown eyes sweeping over them. Once she deemed them acceptable, she nodded toward Frank.

"Very well, you may go. Both of you." Both men stepped out without a second thought, pulling the door shut behind them. Taylor gave Connor the briefest of glances before she stepped forward, extending her hand across the desk.

"It's good to finally meet you, Secretary Headley. I'm Taylor, and this is Connor." They shook hands. Connor stepped forward, offering his hand as well. The Secretary appeared surprised, her eyebrows arching upward just slightly, but her hesitation was hardly noticeable before she shook his hand as well.

"Thank you for coming. Have a seat." Taylor's lips quirked slightly, but she sat, smoothing her coat. Connor took the seat beside her, watching Alexis Headley resume her seat. She folded her arms and leaned into the desk.

"This is a little informal. I thought we would be meeting with President Warren." Taylor glanced around the office.

"There will be hearings, starting tomorrow. Any legislation involving androids will be passed through the House and the Senate, so that's where we will begin." Secretary Headley paused, considered the both of them again. "I called you here to discuss the more pressing matter to me, which is our national security."

"I see." Taylor shifted in her seat. "It seems like solving one would readily solve the other."

"That is a charming sentiment." Alexis Headley smiled, slight and indulgent, leaning back into her chair. "But let's be practical."

"I don't understand what you're afraid of." Taylor folded her hands in her lap. Connor was reading her stress levels, but they hadn't shifted. Her fingers stayed still in her lap. "Any violence from deviants has been isolated. The revolution was peaceful. Have you received a threat?"

The two women stared each other down for at least a minute. The Secretary pursed her lips. "Even if I had, you would not be privy to that information."

"Well I know that Markus hasn't threatened you, so what exactly are you asking me?"

"I have to know what Markus intends now that he holds Detroit." Connor glanced back at Taylor, expecting her to react. She didn't, not more than the puckering of her lips into a frown. Secretary Headley had leaned forward onto her elbows again, waiting for her to respond.

"They only want their freedom." She took a breath, in her nose. As still as she was, he couldn't imagine she wasn't struggling with some emotion. The timbre of her voice had shifted slightly. "It's not that complicated."

Another beat of silence descended. Alexis Headley moved her gaze from Taylor to Connor. "Your co-ambassador doesn't speak much, does he?"

Taylor turned her head. Their eyes met, and her frown eased into the smallest of smiles. "I bullied him into coming with me. He'll be content not to say anything."

"I'm here to assist Taylor," Connor affirmed. "Markus chose her to be our ambassador. I would be happy to answer any questions you may have, though."

Secretary Headley arched a single eyebrow at him. "Is Markus planning on building more androids in Detroit?"

"No." Taylor sat forward in her seat, drawing the Secretary's attention back to her.

"Is he planning on converting every android in the country?" She pressed, her frown deepening. Taylor stiffened, and Secretary Headley sighed. "Try to understand. I'm not accusing anyone of anything. It is my duty to protect this country from any and all hostilities."

There was another bout of silence. The two women considered each other. Taylor leaned into the chair again. "Markus sent me here because he wanted his people to have rights. He doesn't plan on overthrowing the government or converting anymore androids. He is trying to take care of his people."

"Very well." Secretary Headley stood abruptly, extending her hand across the desk again. "I sense that we're done here."

This time the surprise was apparent on Taylor's face. But she collected herself quickly, standing as well, accepting the handshake. Connor followed suit.

"I will have Frank and David escort you to your hotel. We will be in touch." Taylor nodded as she pulled her hand back. "There is one more thing."

This time it was Alexis Headley who hesitated. It was the closest to squirming that she probably ever came. Taylor was watching with interest, not moving now. Alexis glanced away for just a moment, then finally squared her shoulders again.

"A favor." Taylor shifted on her feet. Waited. "Optional. It won't curry you any favor in Congress. It's more of a personal nature."

"What is it?"

"I'll send you the details, when I send you the schedule for the hearings. You'll have to make a speech." Secretary Headley smirked, sliding easily back into her confidence. "It's for a good cause."

"I'm a fan of those." Taylor tried to smile in return, but Connor could tell it was forced. Alexis Headley shifted her dark brown eyes back to him, her smile widening.

"I know."


	40. Guts Over Fear

**Eminem – Guts Over Fear (feat. Sia)**

"Well, the room service menu is better here anyway." Taylor closed the menu and placed it back on the bedside table. She had just ordered lunch, unwilling to venture out into the streets of D.C. in case people started to recognize her. The airport had been bad enough, and Connor had already started to seem paranoid.

Turning, she crossed the room to sit at the table across from the said android. He wasn't looking at her, his attention on the coin in his hands, rolling it across his knuckles. Tilting her head, she observed him for several moments in silence. His face was carefully blank, however, his LED its cool blue, and as usual she had no idea what he was thinking.

Secretary Headley had astutely noted that Connor had been quiet during their exchange, but more than that he had been quiet all morning. He had barely spoken to her since their exchange in the taxi on the way to the airport. Strumming her fingers against the table distractedly, she figured she deserved the bout of silence.

Her lips parted, his name just on the tip of her tongue. Then she closed them, worked the corner of mouth between her teeth. As much as she wanted to ask if he was angry with her for wanting to go home, to leave him, she was more afraid of knowing. She was compelled to explain that she didn't want to be apart from him, but the sentiment felt cheap when the end result would be the same.

The phone ringing in her pocket put the matter aside. She stood again, reaching in her pocket to answer while she headed for her bag to find her ear buds. Without looking at the caller ID, she said, "Hello?"

"Taylor?" The voice was familiar, but she couldn't place it right away. Sliding her ear buds in, she transferred the call over before responding.

"Yes, who's this?"

"It's Gavin." A hesitation, and then, "Er, Detective Reed."

"Right, Gavin, of course. Sorry, it's been a weird morning." Taylor tucked the phone back into her pocket and crossed back toward the window. "What can I do for you?"

"This crap your android friends sent over," he began, still sounding uncertain. A frown came to her face, subconsciously, as she peered down at the busy city streets. "There must have been an android somewhere in that building. This isn't a lot of evidence to go on."

"It's more than nothing, right?" She tried not to let her nerves creep into her tone. She didn't want to lie outright to Gavin. He was only trying to help.

"So you do have it." Gavin was more astute than he led on. He wasn't a detective for nothing. Still, her brain was stringing together every curse word she knew instead of coming up with a believable lie to distract him. "You realize you have to let me have it."

"I can't." The truth, instead. He cursed, verbalizing a few of the expletives she had just been reciting inside her mind. "Please try to understand."

"The judge decided to deny bail based on the nature of the charges." Gavin said after he was satisfied with the number of obscenities he'd discharged. She exhaled, releasing a breath she didn't even realize she had held. "Apparently he remembered your stepfather from their previous encounter fifteen years ago. Small judicial world in Detroit, it seems."

"That's crazy." She didn't know if she meant the judge, or the bail, or both. The unfamiliar ache in her chest had to be relief, or something like it. But she had never lived in a world where Anthony couldn't reach her somehow.

"You won't testify." The frustration rang clear in his voice. She was making this unduly difficult for him. He had every right to be angry, she figured. "You know that prick is going to have some hotshot, high dollar defense attorney. I need all I can get."

"I can't testify. Not again." Her eyes closed, blocking out the people moving about on the sidewalks below. "The first time was awful. Almost like living it all over again but with an audience."

"We'll give it back. After the trial." He was trying to reason with her. As her silence stretched on, he sighed. Sensing defeat, he said, "At least let me get a warrant and come search that place for more evidence. I promise I won't seize the android."

"Markus is looking for more evidence. He's the one who found what you've already got." Taylor hesitated, opening her eyes again. "I'll ask him if it's alright. It's all androids there, though. You'll have to be nice."

"Not sure why that's a requirement." She rolled her eyes. "What makes you think I can't be nice, anyway?"

"Not a great track record." She snorted at his noise of indignation but spoke again before he could vocalize a complaint. "I'll let you know what he says. I needed to talk to him anyways." She paused. "Thanks, Gavin."

"Right. Sure." He hung up abruptly. Taylor snickered under her breath while she pulled her phone back out and pulled up her contact for Markus. The ringing started in her ears and she tucked it away again, still contemplating Gavin's awkward kindness.

"Hello?" Markus's voice cut into her thoughts.

"Hey." She shifted on her feet, then took a seat on the windowsill. "So, couple things. I spoke with Secretary Headley this morning."

"How did it go?" He sounded curious, to his credit, though Markus had a smooth way of speaking that always made him sound clinically detached.

"Well, not bad. She interrogated me about whether you were planning on becoming a terrorist and taking over the country. Pretty normal stuff." She heard a huffing sound but couldn't tell if it was a laugh or just disbelief at her unfailing sarcasm. "Seriously, though, I did warn you that there was going to be questions."

"Questions such as?" The amusement laced in his tone let her know for sure that he was entertained with her. As per usual.

"Almost verbatim the ones I told you before. Are you going to convert all of the androids in the country, are you building an army, etc. Since you never actually told me what to say, I just had to wing it."

"I'm sure you did great. Are we free yet?" She sighed, and her eyes closed again despite herself.

"I know that was supposed to be funny." Her eyes opened, fixed on her lap. Fingers tapping on her knee. She frowned, tucked her hands between her knees. "I'm trying to laugh, give me a minute."

"I'm sorry. I was trying. I shouldn't have said it." She felt guilty for how apologetic he actually sounded. They sat there in their mutual guilt for a second before he continued, "What did you say to her?"

"What else could I say? I told her that you weren't doing any of those things. No idea if that's true, by the way." Taylor glanced over her shoulder. Connor was watching her now, his brown eyes intent, though he was still flipping the coin between his hands, rolling it over his knuckles.

"It's true." Markus had slid back into his neutral tone. "Frankly there is far too much to do with the people I have to be worried about building or converting more androids at the moment."

"I'll be sure to bring that up. That will ease their minds for sure." A smile touched her face at the sound of Markus's laugh. "I'm told that there will be hearings with Congress, starting tomorrow."

"I see. Well, I would wish you luck, but I don't think you'll need it." Her smile faded. "You wanted something else?"

"Oh. Yes." The conversation had distracted her enough that she had almost forgotten about Gavin. "I just got off the phone with Detective Reed. He received the information you sent over and he wanted to have a look around. For evidence."

"A friend of yours?" Markus asked after a brief pause. She almost laughed.

"Not exactly." She wavered. Was it wise, sending Gavin Reed into CyberLife? "He's helping me. He's in charge of the case against my stepfather, like Connor said. I told him that you were already looking, but he wants to search himself."

"It's fine with me. Just try to keep him from bringing the whole police force."

"Fair enough." She smiled again. "He's a little abrasive. Just so you know. Also doesn't like androids very much. I told him to be nice."

Markus laughed again. "Well that is a relief. I'll be on the lookout. Goodbye, Taylor."

The click on the line let her know that he had hung up. She pulled her phone out long enough to send Gavin a text message. When she turned around, Connor's gaze was still glued to her. As their eyes met, he caught the coin between his middle and index fingers, tucking it back into the pocket of his coat.

Before she could say anything, a knock echoed through the quiet. Her food. She stood and crossed the room to the door. This room was certainly larger than the hotel room in Detroit, but it wasn't exactly the bridal suite either. There was only one bed in it, but it offered android charging stations. She imagined that whoever booked this room for her though that's where Connor would be staying.

She brought her bag to the table, laid out the chicken and vegetables that she'd ordered, the utensils, the iced tea. As she finally took her seat at the table once more, she looked up into Connor's russet colored eyes.

"Are you angry with me?" Her fingers curled around the fork beside the tray. She dropped her eyes to the food, biting her lip, wondering what it was about his face that made her blurt out exactly what she was thinking.

"No. Why would you think I was angry?" She peered up at him through her lashes this time, unwilling to look into his face again. Instead, she made a show of pushing squash around, not taking a bite.

"Oh, you know. You haven't spoken to me since this morning." Her hand stilled over the chicken, knuckles turning white. She didn't think this would be so hard, or the thought of Connor upset with her so terrifying. Maybe because they were alone here, together, and she was terribly out of her depth. "What else am I supposed to think?"

"Why would I be angry?" He asked again, sounding genuinely puzzled. Taylor worked up the nerve to finally lift her head. Connor was giving her that confused expression she knew so well. She pursed her lips.

"I told you I couldn't stay in Detroit." He finally glanced away, his brow still knitted. Thinking, his LED circling yellow. When his countenance smoothed again, she couldn't tell what emotion he'd settled into. As usual.

"I believe I am still reconciling the idea. It's not happening now. There is still a lot to do before you leave." He looked up again, into her eyes, right through her. "Time to change your mind."

That smirk. She smiled, unbidden, completely caught off guard. Then a giggle escaped her. "You're impossible."

"If you're so resolved to leave, why are you so concerned?" He asked, tilting his head in that slight way of his. She couldn't tell if he was seriously asking or if he was teasing. Her smile faded.

"Most of my relationships don't make it past the first panic attack." She gritted her teeth around the half-truth. Connor raised his eyebrows in surprise, clearly not expecting such an answer, and she dropped her gaze to the table once more. "Sorry."

"For what?" He was still puzzled. Rightfully so. She tapped the tines of her fork against the bottom of the container, focusing on it, distracting herself.

"My therapist says I have a bad habit of using blunt honesty as a defense mechanism." She sighed, looking up into his brown eyes. His brows were furrowed now, but he didn't say anything. Listening. "It's where I say something that I don't mind sharing to avoid talking about what I'm really feeling."

"What are you really feeling?" Her heart started to flutter, her tongue thick in her mouth, throat dry. His earnest gaze didn't waver from her face, but his hand started to move toward hers across the table.

"I was afraid." She breathed. "From the beginning. Of how I was drawn to you. How everyone could see it. How much I love you even though I barely know you. I have only been with you for a matter of weeks but now I can't imagine how it will be being without you."

"So don't." He said it so casually. The easiest thing in the world. He had stilled as she had spoken, his hand just halfway across the table, but his eyes were boring straight through her. "You don't have to be afraid. Stay."

"That's the thing, Connor." Her lips twitched. "When you love someone, you give them the power to hurt you. And they don't always do it on purpose."

He continued to stare at her. Silent. Contemplative. Then his eyes dropped to her hand, still wrapped around the fork, tapping, and the open container of food.

"Your food is getting cold." She sighed but speared a cube of chicken onto her fork and popped it into her mouth. He was wrong, it was still incredibly hot. She reached for her drink while she breathed in and out of her mouth. Her clumsy fingers knocked into the glass instead, pitching it right over.

The lid came off, tea spilling across the table, splashing directly over Connor's right side. He reacted instantly, jumping from the chair, but his sleeve had already bore the brunt of the spill. The bite was still searing as she took the painful swallow, grabbing up the pile of napkins before they were drenched by the spreading puddle on the table.

"Shit! Sorry," Taylor stood, pawing at his sleeve with the napkins.

"It's okay." Connor gently pulled her fingers away and slid the jacket off in one swift motion. He placed the piece of clothing in her hands while he retreated to the bathroom to grab a towel. The napkins in her one hand were a crumpled, damp ball now, but the splash of tea hadn't soaked through to his white shirt.

She stared down at the wet coat in her other hand, frowning, pressing the driest side of the napkins to the wet spots. Connor came back with a towel and mopped up the mess "This will have to go to the cleaners. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's fine." He sat the towel aside and came closer to her. His fingers closed around her elbow. "Sit down. Eat." Her frown deepened, but she allowed him to guide her back to her seat, taking his jacket to place over the back of the other chair. "Would you like something new to drink?"

Her eyes fell back to the table. He had removed the tipped over cup so that only her food was left. She hadn't even gone to get ice for the room, there really wasn't anything else to drink but tap water. "Um, sure. Anything is fine."

The door clicked softly behind him. Picking up the fork again, she took a distracted bite of the squash. In the silence blanketing the room, Connor's puzzling persistence clicked in to place while she was putting the next bite on her tongue.

The last time she'd eaten was yesterday sometime. Before the cemetery, the panic attack. She hadn't had time to eat before they left Detroit. A little thing, only he would have noticed. She smiled around the tines of the fork still seated in her mouth.

It only took a few short minutes for Connor to return with a drink. That unfailing efficiency of his. He sat both a bottle of water and a soft drink beside her container of food before settling into the seat across from her again.

"Thanks." She opted for the water, feeling his gaze on her while she took a drink. Continued to eat. She endured it for several bites, with his head tilted, notch in between his eyebrows. The one expression she could identify, the trying to figure her out, like she was a human Rubik's cube and he was turning the panels to solve the combination.

"Please don't watch me eat." She speared a piece of chicken onto her fork and left it sitting there, hovering over the plate. Connor blinked. His face smoothed, eyebrows raised. "It makes me anxious."

He averted his attentions immediately, turning to retrieve his coin from the jacket he had draped over the chair. Even when he was duly occupied, absorbed again by his coin tricks, she found herself pushing the food around in the container more than eating it. She was too conscious of the quiet, of the fact that she was the only one eating, and still thinking of his non-answer from before.

Maybe he wasn't upset, but he hadn't accepted that she was going to leave. Forcing herself to keep eating, settling for frequent glances in his direction while she tried to glean what he was thinking.

"You were amazing." Taylor paused mid-chew. Connor didn't pause with his coin, but he was looking at her in his peripherals, trying to honor her request as best he could. "Today, with the Secretary."

She finished chewing and swallowed, feeling her cheeks warm. "Oh. Thanks."

"Did Markus tell you anything?"

"Nothing useful." She felt herself frowning, just slightly as she tried to stop it. "Gavin said that they denied Anthony's bail. He'll be in jail until the trial."

Connor did lift is head then, his brown eyes finding hers again. She'd laid her fork down anyway, abandoning the meal. "That's good."

He said it like a statement, but it read like a question. She nodded her assent. Her lips lifted in a half smile and she added, "Maybe this time it will mean something."


	41. Move Like U Stole It

**ZZ Ward – Move Like U Stole It**

**WARNING: **Shameless smut ahead. Read at your own peril.

Connor sat on the edge of the bed, his hands resting on his knees and his eyes focused on the television. A news anchor was giving the latest details on the ongoing protests in Washington. He was following along well enough while also keeping one eye on Taylor.

The blonde was hunched over the table with her notebooks spread out before her, For the past few hours, she had been sifting through the pages, reading, taking down notes. Since they had the rest of the day free, she had determined to work on what she was going to say in the hearing tomorrow.

She'd changed, from the outfit she had worn to meet Secretary Headley into a baggy t-shirt and stretch pants. Now she was sitting, legs folded in the chair, chewing on the end of her pen while she flipped another page. Her stress levels fluctuated up every so often, but as many times as he offered to help, she just waved him off.

Her mood had been slightly off all day. Even now, after they had talked again about her leaving. He couldn't quite imagine it, and what he'd told her had been honest. It was just an abstract, and realistically they didn't know how long they would be in Washington, or how long after they headed back to Detroit before this would truly be over.

Still, she had left him before. For the revolution, she had left him standing in the Detroit Police precinct without knowing if she'd ever see him again, or if they would be enemies the next time they met. That was before he was deviant, though. Before he knew he loved her.

He did love her. That much he was certain about now. He would have to reconcile, eventually, with what he would do when she went back to Los Angeles. If he could convince her to stay. If he could somehow go with her, knowing he was leaving Hank behind.

Taylor sighed suddenly, dropping her pen on the table and unfolding her legs to stand. Several joints popped while she stretched, lifting both arms over her head. She exhaled again when she dropped them to her sides.

"Is it going well?" He asked, curious. She hadn't given him many specifics on what she was actually preparing, and he was doing his best not to bother her while she worked.

"I suppose," she said noncommittally, shrugging. "I don't really know what I'm preparing for, do I?"

She shifted her body so that she was facing him, placing her hands on her hips. Pursing her lips, she studied him in silence for a moment, the expression on her face curiously blank. He returned her gaze, getting lost in the blue of her eyes, until she took a decisive step toward him.

"Can I ask you something?" Her voice came out soft, but it was still clear over the miniscule volume of the television. She took another step, her eyes narrowing just slightly, leg almost touching his now.

"Anything." He answered, suddenly nervous, though he didn't understand why. Taylor took a final step so that she stood in front of him, blocking his view of the tv, and held out her hand in the space between them. He didn't break eye contact with her as he slid his fingers into hers, mesmerized by the look in her eyes.

"You can scan me all the time." She moved forward, slid herself onto his lap, until she was sitting on his knees. His hands moved to her hips reflexively, to steady her. He swallowed. "You can feel my heartrate, my breathing, my stress levels."

With her hands free, she slid her fingers along his tie and worked it loose. Her fingertips were surprisingly cold when they brushed against his collar, tugging at his buttons, and he shivered in anticipation. "You know how I'm feeling all of the time."

She worked each button free, still staring directly into his eyes. He could feel the hitch in his thirium pump, his internal fans working to cool him as he overheated. "But this beautiful face of yours," she broke her gaze and leaned in to press her lips against his jaw, "doesn't give much away. Without this," her lips brushed his LED, which he knew was flickering between yellow and red, "I don't think I'd ever work it out."

The last of his buttons sprung free and she slid her hands under the fabric of his shirt. Her lips trailed along his jaw, and there were error messages flashing across his display while he tried to focus over the input of continuous soft touches from her hands and mouth.

"So tell me," she breathed against his neck, her voice low and insistent as she pushed the shirt off of his shoulders. He was putty in her hands, moving his arms, the shirt falling to the bed as she scraped her nails gently down his back. "Do I make you nervous, Connor?"

She pulled her head back so that she could look into his eyes again. They were dark now, pupils dilated. He was panting, his system trying desperately to compensate for the excess heat. When he didn't respond right away, she dipped closer again, kissing the corner of his mouth, her hands still moving greedily over his chest.

"Do you like it when I touch you?" She asked. A hint of tension had slipped into her tone, almost undetectable. But as she'd said, he could always tell how she felt. Something about this question was important to her, though he couldn't imagine how she couldn't tell how quickly he had fallen apart beneath her touch.

"Y-Yes." Connor struggled so much to answer that he stuttered. Taylor froze for just a second, possibly in disbelief. Then she moved to capture his lips with hers, all conversation over.

His hands found her hips again as he deepened the kiss. Their tongues slid together, and while he explored her mouth, she moaned. Impatient for more contact, she slid closer, all the way into his lap, until she suddenly felt the proof of his arousal pressing into her.

She jerked her head back suddenly, her chest heaving, blue eyes wide. He went completely still, not daring to move, not knowing what to do. He hadn't known it was happening, had never experienced it before, and with all of the overwhelming stimulus he'd been receiving, hadn't registered his growing erection.

They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds, her face a mask of shock while he was terrified. If he had to breathe, he would have been holding his breath. The silence continued until he was about to stutter out an apology.

Then she moved closer to him again, cutting off whatever he was about to say by covering his mouth with hers. She pressed her body fully against him, grinding her hips into his until he was groaning into her kiss.

His hands moved, sliding under the hem of her shirt. He traced the length of her spine, feeling her shiver under his touch. He curled his fingers under the fabric of her bra, touching against the clasp, before he hesitated. He pulled back this time, taking in her face, the rosy flush of her cheeks, her heavy breathing.

"Are you sure?" He asked her softly, trying to keep the strain from his voice. There was another unspoken question hidden just behind it, filled with everything that he knew and understood about her fears and anxieties. Her eyebrows rose, but for once she appeared to know what he meant.

Her hands came up to cup his cheeks. "Connor. I love you. I trust you." Her thumbs brushed gently over the arch of his cheeks. "If I ask you to stop, will you?"

"Of course," he breathed, already pulling his hands away. Taylor didn't let him get any further. She circled her arms around his neck, closing the small distance he had created between them once more. Her lips touched the shell of his ear.

"I don't want you to stop," she whispered, her breath hot against his ear. In an instant, his hands were on her again, his arms tightening on her waist. He lifted her as he stood, and her legs constricted around his hips as she giggled breathlessly into his neck. He turned, depositing her onto the bed.

With her limbs still tangled around him, she pulled him down on top of her. He braced himself on the bed so that his full weight didn't fall into her. He gripped the edge of her shirt and jerked it over her head before he ducked down to ravish her lips again. His hands moved along her sides, sliding under her. In one swift motion, he had the clasp of her bra undone.

Her fingers had twisted into his belt buckle, and she was trying to work it loose. He broke away from the kiss, pressing his lips down her neck and toward her collar bone. Tugging the straps on her bra, he pulled it away and tossed it aside. He closed a hand around her breast, kneading it gently while he closed his mouth over her right nipple.

She gasped, her fingers stuttering over the button on his pants. Her back arched upward as he flicked his tongue back and forth, and she moaned softly. Shifting his hands down to her hips, he slipped his fingers into the stretching hem of her pants and slid them down. She kicked them off once they reached her ankles.

He was hungry with his touch, his hands roaming over her thighs, her hips, her waist. Every exposed piece of flesh he had never had access to before. His fingers pressed lightly against the thin fabric of her panties, the wet desire collected there, and she moaned again, her hips bucking into his hand.

Unable to take it any longer, he hooked the edges of her underwear and jerked them off, so forceful he nearly ripped them in half. He pulled away, hovering above her, his eyes roving over every inch of skin.

For a second, Connor just stared, taking her in. Taylor was panting, flushed, her eyes bright as she regarded him. Her hands twitched on the bed, wanting to cover herself, but she stayed still. She allowed him to look until she couldn't stand it anymore, and her arms snaked around his neck, pulling him down into another kiss.

His hand ghosted up the inside of her thigh. As he pressed his thumb into the heat of her, she moaned in pleasure, her head falling back into the bed. He moved in a slow circle as he lowered his head, returning to his ministrations on her breasts.

"C-Connor," she gasped, burying her hands in his hair when he slid his index finger inside of her and started to gently pump, in and out. Her grip tightened and she writhed beneath him. Pressing more firmly, he increased his pace, curling his index finger upwards. Her hips bucked against his hand again, her fingers curling into his scalp.

A thin sheen of sweat broke out across her skin. She was moaning his name, and he was intoxicated by the sound of it. He added his middle finger as he pumped, grazing his teeth along her nipple.

"Connor, I'm—" She didn't finish. Her walls fluttered and tightened around his fingers. She threw her head back into the bed as she came undone for him. He didn't slow until she had released his hair to reach down and push at his hands.

Connor eased himself up, sliding his fingers out of her and staring at the sheen of cum. He touched the tips of his fingers to his tongue, then closed his lips around them, absorbing the taste of her. Analysis popped up into display, but he ignored it. She was watching him, her eyes wide, her face turning a deeper shade of scarlet.

Then she reached up, slid her fingers around the button on his pants and undid it. Only a beat passed before he was helping her, pulling both them and his boxers down, kicking them away. She paused for just a heartbeat, taking in the length of his cock, fully erect and tilted upward toward his stomach.

Taylor shifted forward on the bed, closer, her mouth covering his, her kiss laced with desire. He dug his fingers into her hips as he positioned himself. Breaking from the kiss, he pressed his forehead against hers.

He pushed into her, slowly, feeling her stretch around him. She moaned, her eyelids fluttering, and he pressed soft kisses against the corner of her mouth, her cheeks, her jaw the deeper he thrust. Her nails were clenched into his shoulders, and were he capable, he was sure he would be feeling the bite of pain.

When he was buried to the hilt, he stilled. A few seconds passed before she slid her legs tight around his hips. Then she rolled her hips into him, and the small bit of friction the motion caused sent a wave of heat curling through the pit of his abdomen. Permission to move.

Still gripping her hips in his hands, he pulled out of her almost completely before slamming back in. She cried out, her fingernails digging into his skin, but he didn't stop. He started to thrust, and her gasping moans spurred him on, the muscles in her thighs tightening around him and shivering.

He moved his hand from her hip, pressing his fingers into the swollen hood of her clitoris. "Oh god, Connor," she gasped. As he moved them back and forth, eliciting carnal noises from her, he moved his lips toward her ear.

"Say it again." He said, low as his teeth grazed her earlobe. She obliged him, repeating his name over and over like a prayer until her walls shuddered and constricted around him. Just a few more thrusts and he came with her, until they were both panting, riding out the high together. He nuzzled against her neck, holding onto her as he pulled out.

Quiet.

Taylor was stretched across Connor's side, her limbs tangled around him, fully encompassed in his warmth. His hand had settled onto her side, palm flat against her skin, fingers splayed. Eyes closed but wide awake. They'd somehow made it fully into the bed, and now it was simply quiet.

Not just the room. Connor had switched off the television, even on its low volume. After some long pauses there might be a stray noise from the hallway, people roaming the hotel, another room door closing. Otherwise, silence.

But it was her head that was quiet. As someone who struggled with anxiety, there was never a time when errant thoughts weren't falling unbidden from her subconscious. Overthinking was like a browser with popups that sprung up faster than she could close the windows, and most days she just tried to keep the pace.

Right now, though, there was only one thing occupying her mind. The very physical presence still grounding her to the moment, his arms wrapped tightly around her. The rest of her head was blessedly empty.

* * *

Quiet.

"Hey, Connor." She spoke quietly into the hush of the room, almost afraid to disturb it. He made a small noise of acknowledgment that vibrated through his chest, from his skin to hers, and she thought that maybe she was just asking questions to hear him talk. "Don't take this as a complaint or anything, but I thought you told me that you weren't a Traci model."

"I was designed to completely integrate with humans." Connor responded, completely neutral. Too cavalier. She pursed her lips and pulled away, just slightly, so she could see his face. His LED was circling a gentle yellow.

"I wasn't talking about anatomy." Heat crawled over her skin, despite their current situation, turning her cheeks pink. She might have felt self-conscious, but the way he had looked at her when she had been naked beneath him made it impossible. A sense of awe that made her feel unsullied. Clean. "I meant that you really seemed to know what you were doing back there."

His cheeks turned that light shade of blue that let her know that he was also blushing, but she didn't know if it was from the perceived compliment or something else. He hesitated, LED still flickering, before he said, "As an advanced prototype model, I have access to other models' core programming modules."

For a full minute, she just stared at him and his darkening face, not understanding what he meant. Then it dawned on her, "Wait, so you, like, downloaded a Traci instruction manual? Is that what you're saying?"

"In simplified terms." He admitted reluctantly. She was too dumbfounded to respond right away, and he was watching her nervously, that line in between his eyebrows. Softly, he said, "I wanted your experience to be pleasurable."

"Oh, Connor." She snuggled back into his side, smiling against his shoulder. "You beautiful idiot. I love you."

His fingers tightened, almost imperceptibly. He leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "I love you, too."


	42. The Room Where It Happens

**Hamilton – The Room Where It Happens**

"This emergency meeting of the House and Senate is hereby called to order by the Speaker of the House, Ronald Berkley." The sound of scuffling throughout the room, from the many assembled members of Congress, was nearly deafening. Shuffling of papers, clearing of throats, shifting in seats.

Taylor sat perfectly still beside him, her head facing forward, waiting. Outwardly, the picture of composure, her hands folded neatly on the desk. Connor could sense her heartbeat fluttering inside of her chest. Her hair was pulled into a perfectly tight bun, not a strand out of place, and as usual she didn't seem to notice the cameras in the room or the people staring at her.

More than normal, they were staring at him, he noticed. In interest, with disgust, indifference. As in meeting Secretary Headley the day before, there was a marked absence of androids around, and so he had become something of a spectacle with his LED so boldly on display.

Taylor bowed her head along with the prayer. She stood for the Pledge of Allegiance, holding a hand over her heart. When the room finally settled back into their seats, there was a brief moment of silence, the first since the host of people had assembled in the room.

All eyes turned to the blonde woman, seemingly at once, even the cameras zooming on her face, and she bore the brunt of their attention without flinching. Connor knew that she must be used to such fanfare, but he still found it rather impressive.

"Taylor Kolbeck, you're here as representative and ambassador to the android uprising in Detroit, Michigan." The Speaker was talking directly to her, and so she focused her gaze on him in return, effectively ignoring the rest of the people in the room. In the beat of silence that followed his statement, she figured she was meant to respond.

"Yes."

"Deviant androids have taken control of the city and most of the population has been evacuated." The Speaker leaned into his podium and looked at her over his wire-rimmed glasses. "Our first priority is to return Detroit to its rightful owners. Many citizens have been displaced from their homes and business has all but ground to a halt."

"Androids are not taking up residence in human homes." Taylor had tensed in her seat, but it was almost undetectable. Connor was sure he only saw it because he was sitting right beside her. "They also are not a significant danger to the human population, as evidenced by the significant number of humans who stayed in Detroit after the evacuation order."

"Deviant violence toward humans has been well documented." The Speaker glanced toward Connor subconsciously, then back to Taylor, trying to pretend like he hadn't.

"In isolated incidents. I would remind you that Markus led the revolution without harming anyone."

"There were a number of casualties at Jericho, if I recall." The Speaker frowned at her. Connor felt Taylor's stress levels wildly spike. Her nostrils flared, and she reached for the glass of water that was placed in front of her, taking a long sip. He remembered the soldier she had shot in Jericho, the one who had been a second away from killing him.

There was nothing he could do to comfort her. She placed the glass back down and looked up at the Speaker again. "Jericho was attacked. Some people defended themselves. Not everyone was content to die quietly."

Speaker Berkley's face blanched a deathly shade of white. He worked his jaw for a moment, but before he could open it again to respond, the person to his left cleared his throat. Connor glanced over, identifying him as the leader of the Senate, Vice President Aaron Mills.

"I believe we are gathered here to come to terms. Not to squabble over details." He gave a subtle side eye to his colleague but kept the majority of his focus on the blonde woman seated opposite of them. "To that end, Miss Kolbeck, I hope that we may reach an agreement."

An offered hand. A hint of a smile touched Taylor's face. "As do I. Our main goal is to establish citizenship and equal rights for deviants."

The silence that followed this statement, unlike its brief predecessor, had a profound and resonating quality. It was like the room had collectively sucked in a breath. Taylor kept eye contact with Vice President Mills, unaffected. Connor was puzzled on what else they had expected her to say, but he supposed there were some aspects of humans he hadn't quite worked out yet.

"The ethical implications of declaring deviants—" Vice President Mills held up his hand, stopping the Speaker of the House in his tirade before he could gain any traction. He almost sputtered in indignation, but he did fall silent. The Vice President had at least two decades on him, if the lines etched into his face and the all-white color of his hair was any indication.

"Miss Kolbeck, to grant citizenship to deviants, you will have to convince this governing body that they are, in fact, sentient, capable of emotion. A new form of life. Are you prepared to do that?"

The rest of the room was still remarkably quiet, on tenterhooks. Someone in the far back coughed and it nearly echoed through the chamber. Taylor hesitated, just for a second, under the weight of the question and the eyes of everyone in the room, everyone in the country watching her. Then she nodded.

"If that's what it takes, then yes, I'm fully prepared to do that."

"Then let's begin."

* * *

Taylor collapsed onto the bed, her shoulders slumping forward. She reached down and tugged the heels from her feet, curling her toes in ecstasy. A sigh escaped her as she fell backwards, closing her eyes.

The fleeting moment of peace quickly dissipated. The bun on the back of her head was uncomfortable as she shifted her head, but she didn't want to sit up to let her hair down. She could hear Connor moving closer and felt the bed shift with his weight as he sat beside her.

"You should eat something." He said. She hummed in response, turning her head again, repositioning her bun. His fingers brushed along her forehead, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. The contact made her open her eyes, and she found him hovering there, just above her, inches away.

Even now she felt her chest constricting, heartrate picking up. Worse, he could feel it too, if the smirk that lifted the side of his mouth was any indication. Defiantly she reached up, cupped his face, pulled his lips down to hers. His eyes went wide, LED sputtering yellow, before his mouth moved against hers.

Her phone rang, just as Connor was sliding his hand over her hip, deepening the kiss. Groaning into his mouth, she pulled away, placing a hand against his chest. He let her push him away, reluctantly, frowning. "I do not like your phone sometimes."

Taylor huffed a laugh as she reached into her coat pocket for said device, sitting up straight again. "Me neither. It's Alex, though."

Sure enough, Alex's name was flashing on the screen. She dug her ear buds from her other pocket before she answered, "Hello?"

"Congratulations."

"What have I done now?" She stood and moved to the window, sitting on the windowsill like she had the day before.

"C-SPAN received the highest ratings in the history of the network today." Alex told her matter-of-factly.

"That wasn't just because of me, you know." A smile curved her lips as she glanced down at the street, but it faded almost as quickly. A gathering of protestors had congregated around the entrance of the hotel. She could make them out by the signs, though they didn't appear to be trying to enter the building.

"Just take the win for once. You know, since you aren't doing any actual work." Taylor glanced over her shoulder. Connor had the room phone to his ear and the room service menu open on the bedside table. Ordering her food, no doubt. Oblivious to what was going on outside. "How are you? You looked good today."

"I am good. Why did that feel like a loaded question?"

"I'm sure that's just your imagination." He sounded amused now, and she turned back to the window, distracted. "Or your paranoia? Guilt, perhaps?"

"Don't get carried away." She smiled again, even though her eyes were on the crowd below. If she squinted, she could make out a member of the hotel staff standing opposite of them. Probably asking them to disperse. She didn't think, if it had gotten out that she was staying in this hotel, that they would turn and quietly leave.

"You're right though. It doesn't look like I will be doing any real work any time soon. These hearings will be going on every day until we can broker some kind of deal." She tried to keep speaking without changing her inflection, but when she glanced down, she found her fingers twisting together in her lap.

"I'm not that worried about it. I couldn't ask for better exposure right now, could I?" Alex waved her off. He didn't seem to notice her sudden onset of anxiety.

"Although, Secretary Headley did offer me some work. A charity event, this Saturday." The pause on the line was punctuated. As laid back as Alex pretended to be, he was very territorial when it came to her career. "I'll send you the email she sent me."

"You're thinking of doing it?" Certainly, if she didn't know him so well, she couldn't have detected the subtle shift in his tone.

"It's more of a personal favor to her. I was considering it, but I haven't decided. I wanted to talk to you first." She was already opening her phone to forward the email to him. "I admit the cause seemed fitting."

There was another bout of silence while he retrieved her message. It only took a moment of glancing over for him to chuckle. "Alright, alright. Fair enough. If you decide to go, let me know. I'll set everything up for you."

"You're the best. As always."

"I know. Get some rest, you have to defeat the Senate." Taylor laughed, finally turning away from the window. Nobody on the street was moving.

"Please tell me that wasn't a Star Wars joke."

"A bad one. Tell Connor I said hi. Good night." The line clicked into silence, letting her know that Alex had hung up the phone. She tugged the ear buds from her ears and fixed her eyes on Connor.

"Alex said hi. Thanks for ordering me dinner." He had been opening his mouth to speak, but he closed it again. Surprised. She smiled at him, standing and coming back over to the bed so that he wouldn't come to her and see the commotion outside.

"You're welcome." He finally said. She sat next to him again, leaning into his shoulder. If he hadn't ordered that food for her, she definitely would have gone straight to sleep, even though it wasn't dark. "What's wrong?"

Her eyes blinked open. Connor's fingers closed over her hands, twisting together in her lap again, betraying her. "Nothing. Nervous energy. Today was stressful."

He brought his other hand over and tangled their fingers together, trapping both of her hands between his, stilling them. "I was impressed today." She jolted backward, giving him a skeptical look. He just smiled. "You were impressive."

Taylor laughed through her nose. Connor squeezed her fingers, leaning closer so that their foreheads were touching. "I mean it."

"I know you do." She tried to pull her hands free, but he held fast. Her lips quirked. "I want to get my hair out of this ridiculous bun. My head hurts."

He let her go then, but before she could reach up to undo her hair, she felt Connor's hands on either side of her head. Gently, he worked the pins from her hair one by one while her eyes fluttered closed. Hair fell against her neck, and a minute later he had the rest of it free.

His fingers continued to massage her scalp, making slow circles. An involuntary sigh escaped her, and she leaned into his touch. Until his hands came to rest on either side of her face. He pulled her to him, pressing his lips to hers just as the knock sounded at the door.

"Our timing is impeccable," she breathed when he pulled away, still cradling her face in his hands.

"You need to eat." He said again, releasing her completely to stand. She sighed but conceded the battle, heading toward the table while he went to the door to collect her meal. She only hoped he hadn't ordered her anything too awful in the name of "health".


	43. Speechless

**Lady Gaga - Speechless**

"It's been a long week." Connor watched Taylor's shoulders hunch forward as she bent over, speaking into the phone. She was facing slightly away from him, her blonde hair gathered messily over one shoulder so that he could see the sun-kissed skin at her throat before it disappeared beneath the collar of her coat.

"I'm waiting to meet the stylist." Her head tilted slightly, elongating the line of her neck. The faint pattern of bruises left by her stepfather were still visible, the edges a soft yellow, the middles still tinted blue where his fingers had dug into her flesh. Connor swallowed. The arm not holding her phone was wrapped around her middle, and he could see the knuckles of her fingers blanched white from digging into her side.

"I'm okay." Four days. Four more sessions with Congress, and though the week had started on a high note, the constant back and forth was starting to wear on her. He could see the stress eating at her and had done what he could to help, to relieve some of that stress, to prepare her for the day to come. It felt like less than nothing, looking at her now.

"He's here. You talk to him." Taylor turned suddenly, her blue eyes finding his brown. She shoved the phone out in the space between them, gesturing for him to take it. "Here, it's Alex."

Connor blinked. Reluctantly, he accepted the device, pressing it against his ear. Those blue eyes were still on his when he said, "Hello?"

"Connor," Alex's voice on the line was strained. Frazzled. Taylor kept watching him, her lips puckered into the smallest frown. Her brows were scrunched, anxiety lining her brow. "How is she really?"

The hint of shadows played under the hollows of her eyes. He tried not to think of how little she was sleeping. A few fitful hours before she was up, pacing, writing countless notes. The more he watched her trying to hold herself together, the more he resented Markus for sending her here, an island in a storm.

"She's okay." He forced himself to say it. The grateful smile it earned him was the brightest expression he'd seen on her face in days. Almost worth the precarious sense of dread he felt at the deception.

"Do you remember what I told you before I left Detroit?" Alex didn't bother trying to push further. Resignation colored his tone. The conversation came back to Connor. Taylor being a good actress. Taylor burning everything she'd ever owned and lying effortlessly over the phone.

"I do."

"Just look after her, please." Alex sighed again. "I still don't like this. I won't feel any better about it until she's back home."

Connor felt himself frown, but Taylor was already reaching for the phone again, tugging it easily from his fingers. She pressed it against her ear again as she turned away to wrap up her conversation. Those two words kept echoing in his head. _Back home_.

"Thank you." He glanced up, the subject of his thoughts before him again. She had come closer while he was distracted, a small smile touching her lips, her phone tucked away. Stepping into him, she slid her arms around his middle, squeezing. His hands came up to her waist as he buried his nose in her hair.

"You acknowledge I was lying for you, then?" He murmured just above her ear. She pressed her forehead against his shoulder.

"I'm doing the best I can." Her voice was barely a whisper. His fingers tightened on her waist.

"I know. That's why I lied." He felt compelled to reassure her that Alex was just worried for her wellbeing, but he didn't think it was something he needed to tell her. It was going to take him a long time to figure out the dynamics of Taylor and Alex's relationship, if he ever did.

"I think that counts as a level up in your deviancy." He thought she was going to pull away as she moved in his arms. Instead, she shifted her face closer to his neck. Her breath was warm against his skin, and he could hear the teasing in her voice as she elaborated, "Lying."

"Oh dear, am I interrupting something?" They both jumped apart instantly. They'd been caught up in the moment and forgotten they were waiting on the stylist. Taylor had blanched white, but she turned and saw a familiar silhouette standing in the now open doorway, suppressing her laughter.

"Jen?"

"Thankfully." The redheaded nodded, finally dissolving into giggles as she looked between them. "This is my not shocked face, by the way."

"So glad to amuse you," Taylor said, huffing. "I am glad you're here though. Is Alex just flying you around the country?"

"Hardly. He asked if I would be interested before you even agreed to do the event. I of course said yes because you're my favorite client." Jen's laughter finally faded, and she arched a single eyebrow at the blonde. "You look good in everything and you don't complain."

"That is what I strive for, yes. You remember Connor?"

"Of course. Now come, come, we're wasting time and you look just about as well rested as you did in Detroit." Jen motioned for them to follow as she turned and headed back through the door. She glanced over her shoulder at Connor and pointed down a hallway to the left. "You go that way. Anton will deal with you."

"I'll see you after a few hours of torture?" Taylor smiled at him briefly before she was being pulled in the opposite direction. He watched her retreat, but she had already turned back to Jen to discuss what she wanted for the night.

Indeed, her words proved prophetic. Anton found him a suit quickly enough, though Connor had to spend some amount of time vetoing several outrageous colors and patterns. Following was another long discussion about how good Connor would look with some makeup and his own insistence on how it was completely unnecessary.

The rest of that time he spent, as before, seated back in the lobby where Jen had discovered them, waiting for Taylor to finish her considerably longer process of hair and makeup and whatever other strange rituals were involved that he didn't want to know about. That time, spent in silence, was the first he'd spent separate from Taylor in almost a week.

Connor began to go over the sessions with Congress again in his mind, trying to determine if they'd made any progress. Then he began to evaluate Taylor's mental state and wonder if that progress was worth it. More than anything, he tried to avoid that persistent thought that when this was over, she would be leaving.

He tried not to think of it, and yet it was all he could think of, in every moment of quiet, every break in the conversation. It was a catch-22 now, because he wanted this to be over for Taylor's sake, for the stress that she was under. On the other hand, selfishly, he never wanted it to end.

Perhaps he really was becoming human.

"I'm ready." Connor lifted his head from where he had been staring at the gleam on his shoes at the sound of Taylor's voice. He froze in his chair, his eyes widening.

The last time he had accompanied her to an event, it had been as a machine. He had called her beautiful, not knowing what the word meant. Because his social module told him it was the acceptable thing to say. You needed emotion to appreciate beauty as he felt it now.

Her blonde hair had been pulled over her left shoulder, twisted into an intricate braid that they had somehow pinned pearls into. The dress was black, the sleeves long. At first glance it appeared sheer, with lace appliques of flowers covering the front. The longer he stared, he realized it was an illusion and that he really couldn't see through the dress. It hugged every curve, not leaving much to the imagination.

Taylor raised her eyebrows, giving him a perplexed expression. Probably because he couldn't make himself move, and he wasn't sure how long he'd been staring now. He forced himself to stand and close the distance between them.

"You look..." He tried to find a word, something to do her justice. A smile tugged at her lips, painted a bright ruby red, as she watched him struggle.

"Thank you, Connor." He finally reached his hand out for her, and then he hesitated, hovering just inches away. Her smile widened. "I'm not going to break, I promise."

"You sure?" He tried to smile back, but as he finally managed to slide his arm around her waist, his fingers came in contact with the bare skin of her back and he realized the dress was backless. He swallowed. "I'm not sure I want to take you anywhere dressed like this."

She started to laugh then, that wonderful sound that caused his systems to hitch. "Now that _is_ a compliment."

"You're going to be late. Scoot." Jen appeared behind them, handing Taylor her clutch and pushing them towards the door. Connor kept his arm around her waist as he pulled her to the exit. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

Taylor snorted as the elevator doors shut.

* * *

"They want you to give your speech before the dancing starts. Five minutes?" Taylor was listening to the woman in front of them with wide eyes. Connor could feel her stress levels start to climb and he placed a hand on her elbow discreetly, squeezing.

"Oh. Sure." She nodded.

"Great. Just wait by the stage. Over there." Taylor stepped after her as she ushered them to the marker to wait, and Connor came with her, keeping his grip on her arm. Then the woman left them standing there alone while she bustled off to attend to another task.

"Are you alright?" He asked, watching her take a deep breath in her nose and out her mouth several times with her eyes closed.

"Yeah. I'm okay. I didn't write a speech." She opened her eyes again and smiled at him, trying to seem unaffected, but he could still feel her stress levels giving her away. "I'm just going to wing it."

"Oh." He blinked, surprised. Unsure what to say now. She had a flute of champagne in one of her hands, and she brought it to her lips, taking a sip. Then she pressed both it and the clutch in her opposite hand toward him.

"Hold these for me." She said, just as they were calling for silence in the room and someone was beckoning her onto the small, raised stage. They introduced her as she walked across, and the spotlight hit her, bouncing off the halo of her hair. She smiled, instantaneously, like a reflex, stepping up to the microphone.

"Good evening." She said as the clapping and cheers died down. "Thank you for having me. I want to start off by saying that I didn't prepare a speech, so please lower your expectations now."

Connor glanced out at the crowd of people as they laughed, wondering if they suspected the truth in her statement or not. Regardless, she smiled again, and he found himself wondering at the fact that she never failed to amaze him.

"It's been a busy week. Still, I did spend a little bit of time thinking about what I wanted to say tonight. As I'm sure some of you are aware, I've dedicated a good portion of my career to raising money in the name of domestic and sexual abuse. It isn't exactly new territory for me.

"So there isn't much I haven't already said." Her smile faded at the edges as she looked out over the crowd. They had gone reverently silent, listening with rapt attention. "Tonight, I want to talk about the unsaid things.

"Silence, in the face of abuse, is the greatest enemy. Silence takes lives. I was silent for four years while I was being abused, and after it was over, I was silent after that, too. When I was asked to make a speech, tonight, I thought about what that silence meant."

Taylor paused and shifted on her feet. He saw the briefest twitch of her fingers at her side. Connor could tell her levels of stress were still high, but they were no longer climbing. She had squared her shoulders and her voice was steady. Like she was born speaking into a microphone, and in a way, he supposed she was.

"Very recently, that silence almost took my life. Because I was unwilling to talk about what happened to me, people forgot, and the same person who took so much from me once came back to take everything else. It was only because of my fans, because of their resounding voices, that I am able to stand here tonight and tell you this."

He realized that the dress she had chosen did nothing to hide the bruises on her neck. He'd been observing them only hours before. Though they'd faded, they were still stark against her skin, telling the same story.

"I am not ashamed of what happened to me. No one is lesser for the things that are done to them. We are survivors." A small smile came to her face. "Indestructible. And we cannot be silenced."

The room went still, waiting to see if she was going to continue, but he could tell by the way she eased away from the microphone like she wanted to dart off the stage that she was through. Once the spattering of applause began, she turned and took measured steps back toward him, not bothering to bask in the praise.

Connor transferred the champagne in his left hand to the same hand as the clutch, making a show of helping her step down. He put his arm around the middle of her back and led her away. For once, she didn't protest, at least until they'd made it to a secluded hallway off of the main ballroom.

"Connor, I'm fine." True, her stress levels were already normalizing. He turned to face her, his hand coming to rest on her upper arm, not wanting to let her go. A look of amusement played just behind her eyes as she gazed up at him.

"I thought maybe you would like a moment. I counted seven people coming forward to speak to you as we were leaving." Her eyebrows jumped upward. She glanced at the door leading to the ballroom and back to him.

"Fair enough. We can't stay away for long, though." She reached up and adjusted his tie, let her hands linger on his collar. He leaned into her without even realizing what he was doing. "How did I do?"

"Considering you were making it up as you went along? Rather well." He smirked as she giggled. "I don't think they believed you when you said that."

"Maybe by the end." She returned, still smiling.

"Miss Kolbeck." Taylor stepped backwards, her hands falling away. Connor released her arm and turned, catching sight of the Secretary of Homeland Security Alexis Headley joining them in the hallway.

"Secretary Headley." Taylor kept her smile in place as the woman came closer. Her straight black hair was in a simple bun and she was wearing a red sheath dress, looking completely unabashed at intruding on their privacy.

"Thank you for accepting my invitation. I wasn't sure you would." A brief glance and small nod in Connor's direction were the only acknowledgment she gave him, but he returned the nod, nonetheless. "That was quite the speech."

"I'm sorry if it wasn't up to your standards." Taylor said, somewhat hesitant now.

"Not at all." Secretary Headley answered, her eyebrows raising in surprise. The two women stared at each other, and as the silence stretched on for a minute, Connor got the distinct feeling they were communicating something that he didn't quite understand.

"I appreciate you taking the time." The Secretary tried again, reiterating. "I do hope you enjoy the party."

"I'll be back in soon. Connor thought I needed a breather." Taylor smiled as she offered her hand. Secretary Headley took it, shaking hands, but her brown eyes had found him again, interested.

"How thoughtful." She said, studying him.

"He is." Taylor nodded, glancing in his direction. Then she said, in a vague attempt at a polite dismissal, "Thank you, Secretary Headley."

"You know," the Secretary was lingering now, like she had more to say. She turned her attentions back to the blonde, eyeing her up and down. "I was unfair to you. I'm not proud of it."

"I'm sorry?" Taylor almost stuttered. Her brows had drawn together, and she was clearly perplexed.

"I have been watching your progress this week, with the hearings. You've done remarkably well given the opposition." Secretary Headley's lips quirked into an almost smile that she quickly suppressed, amusement at a private joke, and Connor thought maybe she was avoiding comment on her political rivals.

"When I first got into politics, no one took me seriously either. 'Sexy Lexi' is what they used to call me." Another smile curled over the Secretary's lips, tinged with memory. "There are still people who use that name behind my back all over this city."

"Why are you telling me this?" Taylor asked softly. Her face had smoothed over, but there was still confusion behind her eyes.

"Because, like you said in that impromptu speech of yours, no one is lesser for the things that are done to them. And no one is lesser because of what other people think of them, either." Alexis Headley was still smiling, but it had changed into something that resembled real happiness, made all of her features soften.

Taylor's face had turned pink as the Secretary inclined her head. "You have my respect, Taylor Kolbeck."

With that, she turned and went back into the ballroom, leaving the two of them in silence. As soon as she was gone, Taylor reached over and grabbed his arm, turning to him with wide eyes. "Connor, did that really just happen? Tell me I'm still conscious."

"All of my systems are functioning at normal capacity." Connor returned her gaze, his lips twitching in amusement. "I can confirm that you are still conscious."

She gave him a dazzling smile, threw her arms around him for a hug. He returned it, disappointed when she pulled away almost immediately. "We better go back. People really will start getting suspicious."

"Of course."


	44. Save the Last Dance For Me

**Michael Bublé – Save the Last Dance For Me**

An hour could sometimes feel like an eternity to a human. Taylor contemplated this as she spoke to another man in a suit, this one claiming to be a personal friend of the Vice President and in possession of some very strong opinions of the current state of the hearings.

She had plastered an attentive, empty expression on her face but was having trouble focusing on what he was saying. Connor was standing next to her, where he had been standing sentinel for the duration, handing her appetizers from passing trays. It felt like she had been at it for most of the night, but he told her just a few minutes ago that they'd been there for a little over an hour.

"If it isn't Taylor Kolbeck." The blank look fell off of her face as her muscles stiffened. The man who had been speaking moments before turned with her toward the newcomer that had interrupted him mid-sentence, sputtering. Beside her, she felt Connor draw closer and for once was glad for his hovering.

"Kent Warren." Her face twisted into a forced smile. "Long time no see. Or talk."

"You look ravishing, as always." Kent gave her a cheeky smile in return, completely disregarding her jab. He'd slicked his messy black hair back out of his face, for once, so it wasn't obscuring the glint in his dark blue eyes.

"You enjoy the rest of your night, Miss Kolbeck." The older gentleman who had been talking her ear off bid her adieu, glancing between them one last time before he bustled off to find a new victim for his opinions. As he disappeared into the crowd, she suddenly wished he was her biggest problem and not the man still standing in front of her.

"Kent, this is Connor. He's in Washington with me as my co-ambassador in the android hearings. Connor, this is Kent Warren, famous actor and more famous son of President Cristina Warren." Taylor introduced the two of them in the hopes that it might prompt Kent to leave.

Connor had been standing so close that she felt him brush against her arm as he leaned closer to shake hands with Kent. She had been successful, in the very least, of drawing Kent's attention away from her.

"Your infamous android cohort. Yes. Good to meet you, Connor." Kent smiled, showing his perfectly straight teeth and infuriatingly attractive dimples. "Do you mind if I borrow Taylor from you for a few minutes?"

A surprised look came across Connor's face. Before he could muster a reply, she cut in for him. "No. Anything you have to say, you can say it here."

"Anything?" He turned back to her, his tone full of feigned innocence, raising his eyebrows. She felt the heat rising in her face, up her neck. "Very well, then. Raj wanted me to come speak to you. He's concerned."

"Raj can't be bothered to talk to me himself anymore?" Taylor felt Connor tensing at her side, though he stayed silent. "He sent you scurrying all the way back from London?"

"For some reason, he didn't think you would be amenable to his conversation." Kent raised his eyebrows at her again, though he sounded delighted at the idea. "Also, I've been back in the States for a while."

"Well, I wouldn't know," she shot back, glaring. He held his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

"Fine, fine. I'm sorry I didn't call you. Is that what you've been waiting for me to say?" The grin stretched across his face as he said it made her bristle, let her know how sincere he really was. "I thought since I would be gone for months, you'd prefer it that way."

"And I thought you came here to tell me something for Raj." She crossed her arms over her chest instead of balling her hands into fists. A tiny, dreadful part of her brain wanted to turn on her heel and pull Connor to her, kiss him for all he was worth.

She knew that made her a terrible person. She knew it wasn't fair to Connor. Kent wouldn't even have the good grace to be jealous, or to cease and desist. No, somehow, she had the feeling she would only make this whole encounter worse.

"Helping Humans." Kent finally said, his hands falling back to his sides. The crazy spiral of thoughts in her head cut off at those two words. All of her attention was on him now. "What do you know about them?"

"Not much." Connor had been bugging her about this all week. Worried. Protesters had been collecting outside of their hotel sporadically, but she'd been insisting that they meant no harm. "Why?"

"Raj thinks they're up to something." For the first time since he approached, he looked a little uncertain. "Says he found an android in one of his runs recently that might not have been a deviant. May have been pretending."

"Pretending." She repeated, stunned. She turned to Connor then, her face now pale. "Is that even possible? Can an android pretend to be deviant?"

"In theory," Connor thought about it for several minutes before he gave his reluctant answer, his LED circling a persistent yellow. "If they were carrying out a specific set of orders, and if the actual deviants didn't ask a lot of prying questions."

"Why?" Was Taylor's next question when she turned back to Kent.

"He has some theories. None of them good." Kent shrugged. "You got me into this mess, it isn't my job to speculate on the wider conflict. He just wants you to keep your eyes on that lot."

"Duly noted. Thank you for the message." Taylor hoped he would take the hint and leave, but there was a new glint in his eyes as he considered her. His dark blue eyes swept out toward the dance floor, and he raised an open hand toward her.

"Dance with me?" She pursed her lips. She wanted to tell him where to shove it, but he quirked one eyebrow and gave a half smile that showed off the dimple in his left cheek. "One song. For old time's sake."

A second or two passed. She glanced toward the dancefloor, the couples moving in time to the music. The people along the edges that were watching them. The people hovering close by, waiting for their chance to swoop in and talk to her next.

"Fine."

* * *

Jealousy.

The emotion wasn't entirely new to Connor. He'd felt it before, with Markus, before he fully understood what he really felt towards Taylor. He had come to realize that the jealousy he felt towards Markus was unfounded, probably a side effect of his newfound deviancy and his inability to reconcile so many new emotions.

Now, though. This Kent Warren who had walked up to Taylor so carelessly, talked to her so callously. Pushed every single button she had and then convinced her to dance. He could tell easily enough how nervous she had become, though she hid it behind her temper well enough.

Still, she had taken his hand. Followed him out onto the dancefloor. Connor was following them now with his eyes. Kent had pulled Taylor in close, nearly flush against him, and was spinning her around the floor.

He had to admit that, as he observed their dancing, their margin of error was exceptionally low. Their steps were much more intricate than the simple waltz he had led Taylor through on a night very similar to this one. Kent must have had formal training in dancing to be keeping on step with her.

Taylor's eyes were bright as they moved around the floor, her cheeks turning rosy with the exertion. He stared at Kent's hand on the bare skin of her back, the way he leaned into Taylor's ear and whispered something that made her start to laugh.

Jealousy. A sick feeling, symptoms humans ascribed to nausea. She'd promised him one dance, but when the song faded out and the next one began, they kept dancing. They were a beautiful couple, impressive in action. Other couples had stopped to watch them.

Connor was fighting his urge to walk out across the dancefloor and cut in between them. He was being irrational again. But the fact that he knew didn't change it, didn't make the jealousy go away. It stayed through the moment she returned to him with one arm still looped through Kent's.

"Yes, yes, I'll see you later." She was dismissing him again, but she was still laughing. Kent smiled at her one last time, dimples showing, before he did retreat with a parting nod toward Connor. Taylor turned back to him, finally, and her smile instantly dropped away. "What is it?"

Connor was gritting his teeth. He couldn't answer immediately. He realized his LED was flickering red and turned away, trying to collect himself. 'You appeared to be enjoying yourself."

He heard her suck in a breath behind him. Every curse word he ever heard Hank say flashed in front of his processors. "I was."

He turned back, but she had turned away now, staring off into the crowd. Silence blanketed them for a few minutes. He was working out what to say next, how to backtrack now that Kent wasn't here and his jealousy was dissipating.

"You didn't ask me to dance, did you?" Taylor turned around suddenly and grabbed the clutch from his hands. Then she was walking away, quicker than he could react, the sound of her heels clicking against the floor.

* * *

"Hello?" The gruff voice of Lieutenant Hank Anderson was music to Connor's ears, though he certainly did not sound amused to be answering the phone this late on a Saturday.

"Lieutenant, I need your help." He heard Hank deep sighing on the other end of the line.

"What the hell about me made you think I'm helpful?" The line was quiet for a minute, as though Connor was actually meant to answer that, before Hank groaned. "Alright, fine. How can I help you, Connor?"

Connor had the distinct feeling that Hank was being sarcastic, but he continued anyway. "I've made a mistake."

"Oho. Well, this is an occasion, then." When Connor didn't respond to his teasing after a moment, Hank huffed, "Jesus, kid, what is it?"

"I believe I'm screwing everything up with Taylor." There was another instant of silence. Connor glanced back toward the open ballroom doors, the sounds of the party filtering out into the hallway where he was standing. He had thought that Taylor would come back, eventually, but he'd realized some time ago that she had well and truly left.

"I should have guessed that's what this was about." Hank sighed again. "Listen, I'm not sure I'm the best person to call for relationship advice."

"Please, Hank." Connor turned back toward the exit, wondering for what felt like the millionth time where Taylor had gone. He hoped, like he'd tried to convince himself, that she was back at the hotel. The alternatives he hadn't wanted to consider for too long.

"Fine, tell me what happened." So he did. He told Hank everything, from beginning to end, and as he spoke, he understood why humans talked about their problems. It was cathartic, saying it out loud, knowing that Hank was listening.

"Maybe it was a mistake, thinking that a human and an android could be in love." Connor knew his LED was a solid red circle as he tried to process through this new emotion. As inexperienced as he was with identifying his feelings, he thought this must be misery.

"It's not a mistake. You clearly love that girl." Hank was stern when he finally spoke again. "You might just be going about it the wrong way."

"I don't understand."

"Look, it sounds like you guys are under a lot of stress out there. I'm not an expert on women, but it ain't always enough to be in love with someone. You have to do things to show it. Give 'em shit, take 'em on dates. Taylor might be a famous and rich celebrity type, but she's still a woman at the end of the day."

"What should I do?" Connor asked, still slightly confused. He still was trying to move past his sullen thought that he would never understand human relationships.

"I don't know. It's your job to find out what she likes. Buy her some flowers." Hank was on the edge of yelling at him in frustration, he was sure. The fact that he had kept the lieutenant talking and engaged this long was actually quite impressive. "Fly to the Bahamas. Fucking Christ."

"Thank you, Lieutenant."

"Sure, Connor." Hank hesitated, not hanging up, before he said, "Good luck, son."

* * *

Taylor stood over the bathroom sink, trying to scrub the makeup off of her face. She was pretty sure that Jen and Anton used plaster. Or permanent marker. Something impossible to get off with her very limited resources in a hotel bathroom.

The phone started ringing from its place beside the sink and she groaned. She couldn't even be content to drown in her own misery and scrub her face off in peace. Glancing over, she saw Rachel's name on the screen and reached for it. "Hello?"

"Hey." Taylor heard her shuffling around on the other end of the line. Rachel was the kind of person who never slowed, even while on the phone. She placed the towel she'd been using on the rim of the sink and cut the water off. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"Nothing important. What's up?" She walked back into the bedroom and took a seat on the bed.

"I just wanted to let you know that the story is coming out tomorrow morning. I finally finished all of the editing. I got approval today." Rachel sounded excited, and Taylor knew that she should be too, but she couldn't find it in her to share the sentiment. "It turned out really great."

"That's good." She managed. "I'll look forward to reading it in the morning."

The line went silent. Whatever Rachel had been doing in the background stopped abruptly. "Taylor, what's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong." She tried to say it like she believed it, but she had been panicking since she walked away from Connor at the party and he didn't follow her. He still wasn't here.

"Bullshit." Rachel was having none of it. "You can't lie to me over the phone, I'm not falling for it. I know this political nonsense has to be getting to you by now. Do you want me to come down there? They assigned that fuckoff Olivia to D.C., but I can have her pulled off in a second."

"It isn't that." Taylor sighed. "I sort of got into a fight with Connor."

"Trouble in paradise already?" Rachel had been aware of her and Connor's relationship only because Taylor had confided her feelings in the church. The brunette hadn't let it go since, so Taylor had kept her in the know, somewhat. "This isn't one of your self-sabotage things, is it?"

"Probably."

"So tell me what happened and I'll tell you if you're being crazy." She could tell from the tone that Rachel was trying to fight off a touch of amusement.

"We were at a charity event tonight. Kent showed up." Rachel made a disgusted noise. She had never been a fan.

"I don't know what you ever saw in that douchebag." She grumbled. Taylor snorted.

"It was the dimples. Anyway, I may have agreed to dance with him." This time, Rachel's disgusted noise was reserved for her. She knew she deserved it.

"You really are self-sabotaging. What the hell? Were you trying to make Connor jealous for some reason?" Rachel sounded full of the disbelief that Taylor felt for herself, even now.

"No. No, of course not." She couldn't explain it, what she felt in that moment. The stress from the week pressing in. The idea of a brief escape. Rachel wouldn't understand, and she wasn't sure she understood it herself.

"So apologize."

"He's not here." She took a deep breath, shuddering. Closed her eyes. "I came back to the hotel. I don't know where he is."

"He'll come back." Rachel sounded so sure, all the certainty that she didn't feel, like a lighthouse in her storm. "Try to remember that he hasn't been a deviant for very long. Maybe he just needed some time."

She was right, of course. Connor had been incredibly patient with her, and she had been nothing but selfish, never considering his feelings. If anything, Taylor felt worse, and she placed her free hand over her mouth to hold in her sob, hoping that Rachel wouldn't hear her crying.

"You really love him, don't you?" Rachel's voice had softened. She knew.

"Y-Yeah.' Taylor lowered her hand but couldn't keep her voice from shaking.

"It's going to be okay. He'll come back soon. He won't leave you by yourself for too long." Rachel was trying to comfort her, but Taylor had only remembered that she'd broken her promise not to go off alone, and she started to cry harder.

* * *

The door clicked softly as Connor tapped his hotel key against it, pushing into the room. A hush greeted him, not even punctuated by the usual mumble of the television. The bed was still neatly made, the door to the bathroom slightly ajar, the chairs at the table pushed in, but he finally caught sight of Taylor, curled into a ball on the windowsill.

He let the door close behind him as he stepped fully into the room, and the louder click made Taylor raise her head. Their eyes met, and he tried to read the emotion on her face, but she dropped her gaze to the bouquet of roses in his hand.

She'd changed out of her dress, into one of her baggy shirts and shorts, so he could see a generous amount of her legs as she moved to stand. Her hair was still pulled back, but there were smudges of dark makeup around her eyes. It looked like she had tried to wash some of it off but given up. As she came closer, the redness of her eyes let him know that she'd been crying.

"I'm sorry," she said, coming to a stop a few steps away. Out of his reach. Her voice cracked, raw from the tears. Connor felt his world shifting again, trying to fathom what she was apologizing for.

"These are for you." He said, taking a couple of steps, holding them out to her. Her blue eyes dropped to the red roses. She took them, the plastic wrapped around them crinkling softly. Then she held them to her face, inhaling, breathing in the scent.

"Thank you." When she opened her eyes again, they stared at each other. At an impasse. Connor knew there was something else, something more, and he was replaying Hank's words in his head trying to find it. Taylor regarded him in thoughtful silence, before it finally came to him. He stepped forward, offering her his hand.

"Dance with me?" Her brow furrowed. She stared down at his hand, and then back up at him like asking a question, but he didn't indulge her. He didn't elaborate. He just waited. The moment stretched on, and he could feel his own fear rising every second.

Until her fingers touched his. She placed the roses on the bed beside them and stepped into his arms, tucking her head against his shoulder. He held her as tight as he dared. The room was only wide enough to allow for a simple box step, and with no music, he led her through it slowly. Just content to hold her.

"I shouldn't have danced with him." Taylor said after several minutes. She didn't move to look at him, just spoke into his jacket. "It had nothing to do with him. I don't like him. He's just really good at dancing."

"You don't have to explain. I should have asked you to dance." Her hand clenched into his jacket, her fingers tightening over his.

"Don't." Connor almost released her in surprise. "You don't need to forgive me like that. You're allowed to get angry. You can't be expected to know what I'm thinking all the time."

"I wasn't angry. I was jealous." He lowered his head and buried his face into her hair. "I thought you would come back, but you didn't. I thought I had ruined everything."

"Me too." She breathed a laugh. "I'm sorry I broke my promise. I came straight back to the hotel."

"You didn't get hurt, that's all that matters." Connor finally pulled away, cupping her face with his hands. He paused, though, when she shifted her eyes away, lips twitching downward. A split second of hesitation that anyone else might have missed. "Right?"

"Connor," she said softly, like a plea. Her left hand moved toward her right, and he dropped his eyes toward the movement. Reaching down, he grabbed both of her hands with his, but he jumped when she winced and released her.

More gently, he took her hands, turning them over. She'd gone quiet, not resisting, very still in his touch. He finally spotted the dark line of bruises forming on her right wrist, looking very similar to fingerprints. He hadn't noticed them because she'd been keeping them pressed against her side, then wrapped around his back.

"Who did this?" Connor nearly choked on the words, or perhaps it was the anger underneath them, curling through his chest. He was scanning the marks, but there were no fingerprints. She'd probably been wearing her dress at the time, with the long sleeves.

"When I got back to the hotel," Taylor began, barely a whisper. "One of the protestors grabbed me. I wasn't paying attention. The bellhop saved me, brought me inside and up to my room."

He remembered noting the absence of protestors on his way in but had attributed to the late hour on a Saturday. A member of the hotel staff must have called the police and had them dispersed afterwards. After they assaulted her.

"You should go to the hospital." She shook her head immediately, but he remembered when she'd been nearly hypothermic after Jericho and refused to go. He ran his fingers along her wrist, gently pressing as he went. "Does it hurt?"

"A little," she admitted. "I tried to pull away when he grabbed me. I don't think it's broken."

"It's not broken. You should still go."

"I don't want to go." She said, stubborn. He sighed, releasing her. Taylor scooped the roses from the bed, holding them to her nose again. "We don't have a vase. We'll have to get one tomorrow, or they'll die very quickly."

She was trying to change the subject already. Connor moved to the bed, watching her place the flowers on the table. She stroked her fingers along the petals, pensive.

"Come here," he said, diverting her attention. She turned her head and he raised his hand for her again, asking her to come closer. She approached, one step at a time, and when she reached the bed, she didn't hesitate. She climbed into his lap, tucked herself against his chest, resting her head against his shoulder.

From the night of the very first hearing, they'd started a ritual. Connor would take the pins out of her hair one by one before he let it down, massage his fingers into her scalp. He loved being able to touch her, finally, after being next to her all day without the privilege. He loved the way she closed her eyes, leaned into him, every soft sigh of pleasure.

Her hair was still up now, tied in its elaborate braid over her left shoulder, like she'd been saving it for him. He reached up and began working it loose. He figured this would take him much longer than usual, with the tiny pearls both braided and pinned into it, but he didn't need to sleep. He had time, and patience.

"I don't deserve you." She whispered against his neck. His fingers stilled momentarily, before he continued working the first pearl out of her braid. Once it was free, he cupped her hands in her lap and sat it there. Then he continued to work.

"Don't be ridiculous," he said, pulling the pins out one by one, piling them in her hands. "You deserve everything."

He was at it for at least thirty minutes, untangling her hair with his fingers. By the time he had finally finished, he was just running his fingers through her hair for his own pleasure. Her breathing had evened out, she had fallen asleep some time ago, but he didn't mind.

No, eventually he took the pile of pearls from her hands and placed them on the bedside table. As carefully as he could, he lowered her to the bed. Just when he thought he'd successfully moved her, however, he must have jostled her wrist. Her face scrunched in pain, and her eyes blinked open.

"Done already?" Taylor smiled at him. Connor had taken her wrist in hand again.

'Would you like some ice, at least? Since you refuse all medical attention." He was scanning her injury again. He could only detect a small amount of swelling. Maybe a mild sprain. She shook her head.

"Don't go. Stay with me." She slid closer, pressing into him. "You know, I could teach you how to dance. More than a waltz, I mean. The old-fashioned way."

He thought of Kent and Taylor, dancing, the smile on her face. In hindsight, it hadn't been their proximity that had ignited his jealousy. It was how happy she had been, for the first time all week. How easily she had laughed.

'Like a date?" He said, hopeful. She was quiet for a few seconds, before she giggled.

"Yeah. Like a date."


	45. I've Grown Accustomed To Her Face

**Dean Martin – I've Grown Accustomed To Her Face**

Rachel's story had certainly dropped. Taylor had almost forgotten about it, but Sunday was normally a slow news day. The story exploded onto the presses. In the wake of the hearings taking place with Congress, it was all anyone was talking about.

For her part, her social media accounts had been blowing up with messages all morning. Her part in the story was miniscule at best, but because of her role as ambassador to the deviants, people were unduly focused on it. Taylor had also been fielding phone calls and text messages.

Everyone wanted to know more. The story was having its desired effect, she supposed. Sunday was meant to be a day of rest, however, and tomorrow she would have to be right back on the floor, arguing with Ronald Berkley and the rest of Congress. She didn't want to spend her last day off immersed in this as well.

No, Taylor would have preferred to spend the whole day hiding under the blankets with Connor, ignoring the wider world. As it was, he wasn't even here right now. He had gone out to get a brace for her wrist, insisting that she needed to keep it immobile to let it heal. That terrible, worried expression he gave her every time she winced made her eventually give in.

Now she was alone in the hotel room. Rachel had texted her positive messages all day after she let her know that she and Connor had made up. The brunette woman said she would certainly win another award for this article, especially if Taylor was successful in winning citizenship for deviants.

Alex had been quite giddy over the press as well. Her celebrity had been quite muted in comparison to her acting days. Social media celebrity was different than Hollywood, and while she had a steady stream of cameos, interviews, and sponsorships, Alex was certainly welcoming the change of pace.

She didn't know how she felt about it. She had never started this for the fame that it would garner. She wanted to help deviants. She never wanted attention for it.

Sighing, Taylor decided that maybe a hot bath would distract her. At least it would be a valid excuse to ignore her phone for a while. Maybe it would also ease the soreness in her wrist, which ibuprofen and the ice that Connor had forced on her were doing little to alleviate.

The bathroom had a decently sized jacuzzi tub, so she started the hot water and stripped off her clothes while she waited for it to fill. Phone in hand, she placed her earbuds in and started some music, silencing her notifications. Finally, she put her hair up into a bun and sank into the hot water.

She nearly groaned with pleasure. She didn't realize how tense her muscles had been until the water was over her shoulders, easing it away. A sigh escaped her lips, her head falling back against the rim of the tub. She just wished she had some Epsom salts and candles, then it would have been perfect.

As the songs shifted on her playlist, she found herself humming along. Before long, she was singing the words, too. She could vaguely hear her phone still vibrating with messages beside the tub, but she was ignoring it, immersed in the music as much as the water.

When she finally opened her eyes again, she didn't expect to see Connor standing just inside the doorway. Her skin was already flushed from the heat of the bath, but she sunk down lower into the water, embarrassed. Not because she was exposed necessarily. He'd seen every part of her multiple times over the last week.

No, she hadn't expected him to be there, staring at her so intently with his mouth slightly open. She scrambled to silence the music on her phone, splashing water over the side of the tub. In the answering quiet, she peered up at him again uncertainly.

The box containing her prescribed wrist brace was clutched in both of his hands. His eyes were still transfixed on her face, but he'd managed to close his lips. Both of his cheeks were tinged with a slight blue, but she couldn't fathom why he was embarrassed.

"What is it?"

"You were singing." He said softly, as if that were explanation enough. Her blush darkened, and he stepped closer. "I heard it when I returned from the store. It was beautiful."

Her mouth dropped open then. Connor tilted his head, and she managed to close it again. "Thanks."

"Will you sing again?" He asked. She could have melted at the eager tone of voice. How effortlessly beautiful and innocent his face was as the question left his lips. Instead, she felt herself frown.

"I don't like singing for other people," she said honestly, because she didn't want to lie just as much as she didn't want to disappoint him. He looked puzzled, instead.

"Why not?"

"People always compare me to my mom," she said reluctantly. This only served to confuse Connor further.

"You don't sound like your mother." He said, rather matter-of-factly. Taylor's eyes widened, and she looked at him in surprise. A second later he seemed to realize what he said and averted his eyes.

"How do you know what my mother sounds like?" She asked. They sat in silence for a moment, Connor still avoiding her gaze, before he spoke again.

"I have listened to her music." He admitted. The blue of his cheeks deepened, and he added, hesitantly, "I have also watched all of your movies and television shows. And many of your interviews."

"When did you have time for that?" She asked, stunned. He shifted those brown eyes back to her when he didn't detect any anger in her tone, still looking quite sheepish.

"I started when we were still working the deviant case. During downtime." He said. She tried to imagine Connor watching episodes of _Chloe's Corner_ in his head before showing up at the Eden Club to catch deviants and didn't know whether to laugh or groan. "They are widely available on streaming services. I didn't violate my promise."

Taylor did laugh then, mostly because she wasn't sure what else to do. He was incredibly endearing, even while admitting to being a total creep. She held her hand out to him. "Do you want to join me?"

For the first time, his eyes flickered down from her face, to the parts of her barely covered by the bath water. He swallowed, but after a moment's hesitation, he sat her wrist brace down and started pulling his jacket off. She was content to watch him strip, figuring she deserved the free show after what he'd just confessed.

He slid into the tub behind her, sliding his arms around her waist. She leaned into him, closing her eyes again, a smile touching her face. And because she couldn't deny him anything, she said, "What would you like me to sing?"

"Anything."

* * *

"This is supposed to be a good one." Taylor clicked on one of the movies on the screen with the remote in her hand, bringing the description up. Connor glanced over it briefly, but for all he could tell it appeared to be a children's movie. Not that he cared either way. He had admitted to watching multiple seasons of _Chloe's Corner_, after all, less than a couple of hours ago.

"Okay." He said when he realized she was looking up at him expectantly, waiting for approval. Satisfied, she hit the 'play' button before she nestled closer to his side. Placing his arm around her, he tucked his hand against her waist.

Connor found he enjoyed the movie more than he anticipated. Taylor seemed to enjoy his reactions more than the movie itself. They put on an action movie next that she couldn't quite get into. Instead she offered commentary on the actors that she knew and what they were like in real life while he insisted that she order lunch.

She picked apart the food on her plate with waning interest. At times she delved into her food with enthusiasm and others, like now, she treated it as a task, a chore she had to get through before she moved on. He tried, as usual, to divert his attention elsewhere. Even the winding down action of the film onscreen wasn't doing much for him at the moment.

He could almost feel Taylor's eyes studying him from her seat across the table, periodically, while she stirred the tines of her fork through the mush of mashed potatoes in front of her. She was clearly finished with the meal, but she appeared to be as done with the movie as he was, though the subject of her thoughts eluded him.

"You're going to have to find a hobby, you know." She said it seemingly out of nowhere, but it must have been what she was contemplating while she stared at him. Connor blinked as he finally met her gaze, abandoning his play at distracting himself. Her blue eyes immediately dropped back to her container of food, though, and she worried the edge of her lips between her teeth.

"A hobby." He repeated it, willing her to elaborate. She placed her fork down, finally, and dabbed at her mouth with a napkin, stalling for time he deduced as her gaze jumped around the table. Maybe she hadn't meant to say it out loud. Her other wrist was in the brace he had gotten for her, her arm resting on the table, but he saw her fingers twitch before she pulled it back into her lap with her other hand.

"Yeah. Interests. You know, things you do in your spare time." She raised her chin, looked him in the eyes again. "For fun. You already know most of mine."

"I do?" He asked, more perplexed than ever. He wasn't sure why she was bringing this up now, but she appeared resolute as she nodded.

"Dancing," she said pointedly, raising her eyebrows at him. "Running." Her eyes flickered away for a second. She wavered, then said, "I like to knit."

"You knit?" He said, surprised, still a little bewildered by the conversation. Taylor nodded again, her cheeks turning pink.

"My therapist suggested it, a long time ago. To help with my anxiety. It didn't, but I still liked it." She explained it as though it needed justification. Like knitting wasn't a perfectly acceptable pastime.

Connor considered her again, blue eyes still diverted, cheeks rosy. He tilted his head slightly, which prompted her to look at him again. "Why are you bringing this up now?"

The question made her purse her lips. As the color faded from her face, the silence settled in around them. Her expression remained indecipherable for the duration, until she tilted her head too, mirroring his posture.

"Do you remember the case with the pigeons?" Her question caught him off guard, but he did remember it. In fact, the scene appeared within his consciousness, the apartment full of birds, the deviant that they had chased across the rooftops, where Hank had almost fallen to his death. He'd made the choice to save him and let the deviant go.

"Yes." The look on Taylor's face now suggested that she'd already deduced that he had remembered the case, but she hadn't interrupted his thoughts. Her eyebrows had drawn together, just slightly.

"Do you remember what I said, about the deviant from that case?" Her voice was softer now, but Connor had no problem hearing it over the music now playing from the television behind him. The credits were rolling. He remembered Hank asking about the pigeons. Taylor's response about the newly turned deviant's fixation turned obsession.

"I do," he answered, equally quiet. He was starting to get a vague idea of where the conversation was going, but he stayed silent while she searched his face. Worked herself up to what she wanted to say next. His LED was flickering a soft yellow.

Taylor's face softened when she finally spoke, "I just want to know that if—" Her mouth open and closed. She floundered in her hesitation for a few seconds before she corrected herself. "When I go back to Los Angeles, I want to know you're going to be okay."

Connor blinked again, rapidly this time. He tried to consider what she'd said in its entirety, tried not to focus on how she'd slipped her when for an if and instead sort through everything she'd said for the question. She continued to watch him, not looking away, even now.

"I love you." The silence had become consuming. The credits had finished, and it was just the two of them, staring at each other across the table. She had pierced it with her words, and now she leaned forward, her face earnest. "I don't want to be the reason you can't be happy."

"You want me to get hobbies," he began slowly, his LED still circling yellow, "so that you can feel better about leaving me?"

"No!" Her hands came up, reaching across the table toward him. The effort turned her wrist, made her wince. He extended his hand to meet hers, closing his fingers over hers to still the movement. He wished he hadn't said it, but he couldn't take it back.

He recalled, suddenly, the thing she had told him, sitting here nearly a week ago. How loving someone gave them the power to hurt you. Only days had passed, and he could understand what she meant so much more now. Here they were, at this very same table, hurting each other without meaning to.

"Don't worry about me." Connor said gently. The anxious look lining her face dissolved as she laughed, but it was short and mirthless.

"That's not the first time you've told me that." Taylor said, settling into a small smile, still strained at the edges. She slid her other hand into his free one. "I don't want to argue with you."

A moment passed, then two. He slid his thumbs over her knuckles before he released her hands, moving to clear the table. She moved from her chair toward the bed, so when he turned around, she had already nestled back into the pillows.

Another smile stretched over her face. She reached her uninjured hand out for him. He went to her without hesitation, sliding in next to her again, placing his arms around her. She closed her eyes when he slid his hands through her hair, and he leaned closer, until their noses were nearly touching.

"Are you concerned that I'm fixated on you?" He asked her in the quiet. Her eyes opened once more, but he had been teasing when he asked. Mostly. His fingers traced the angle of her jaw while he felt the heat crawling over her skin.

"Are you denying it?" She returned. Connor felt the quickening of her heart rate as his fingers brushed against her pulse. The conversation felt tremulous, but she was smiling still. He touched the edge of her lip with his thumb, watched her tongue dart out to wet her lips. It was hard to resist the temptation to kiss her right then.

"No." He felt Taylor's hands sliding down his chest, sneaking beneath his shirt. He swallowed, trying to focus. "Things will be different. When this is over. There hasn't been time."

The smile flickered away from her face. A look passed through her eyes as her hands stilled. It was gone a second later, so quickly he could have imagined it, but he knew that he hadn't. She didn't believe him. Not really.

"It was supposed to be our day off," she said. Changing the subject again.

"I believe it still is." He said in reply, moving his hand to push the errant strands of hair out of her face. Her blue eyes followed his movements before making contact with his brown again.

"I just wanted to relax. Pretend like none of this is happening. Just for today." Her voice got quieter as she spoke. Connor paused. The desperation in her expression was barely disguised.

He conceded to let her hide, just this once. Because she'd implicitly asked, and she was right. They had one day off. Tomorrow the two of them would be back in front of Congress. He could give her this.

He moved closer, pressed his lips over hers. A shudder went through her as her eyes fluttered closed. The hands under his shirt moved again, sliding along his synthetic skin until her left arm was curled around him. Taylor deepened the kiss herself, her other hand clumsily working his buttons free.

Connor was tugging on the hem of her shirt when he heard her sharp intake of breath. He broke away, his hand coming up to stop the movement of her injured right wrist. "Be careful."

Tears collected in the corners of her eyes, and she blinked rapidly trying to dispel them. He loosened his hold, worrying that he had caused her pain when he grabbed her. Her lip trembled, then her mouth twisted downward, and she ducked her head against his neck.

He expected her to start crying. She didn't. She laid against him, motionless, face pressed into the crook of his neck. He could feel her breaths tickling against his synthetic skin. Slowly, he released her arm and slid both of his arms around her as carefully as he could manage, given their position.

"Hey, it's okay."

"I'm tired of this." Her fingers tightened on his back. "I couldn't even come back to the hotel by myself. I hate feeling helpless. I'm so frustrated."

"It's okay." He said again, running his fingers through her hair. He didn't know what else to say. Taylor relaxed her arm, just a little, but stayed where she was in his arms. "This is not going to go on forever."

The silence closed in once more. She shifted her head to his shoulder, but he could still feel her breaths tickling gently against his neck. Connor didn't think she would think say anything else as the minutes ticked on.

"Thank you for coming with me." He was wrong about that, too. "I know I gave you a hard time, but I don't know what I would do without you here. Go insane, probably."

"No. You're stronger than that." He shifted away, until he could see her face again. Her eyes were closed, right wrist cradled against her chest. In one movement, he flipped her onto her back. Taylor blinked her eyes open then, wide and surprised. "Don't move."

He pressed his lips against the corner of her mouth, moved to the edge of her jaw. Her breathing started to quicken before he made it to the sensitive spot behind her ear. A soft moan escaped her, and she reached her arms up to circle his neck.

"I said don't move." He said again, catching both of her wrists easily, pinning them with his hand. He pulled back to look into her eyes, the corner of his mouth lifting. The flush covering her face darkened. He dipped his head back down, pressed his lips against the hollow of her throat.

"Connor—"

"Be still." He moved her hands above her head before releasing them, sliding his other hand under the hem of the t-shirt she was wearing. As his fingers traced along her skin, he planted kisses back up her jaw, until he was looking in her eyes again.

He paused there, scanning her face. She was nearly panting now, but she noticed his hesitation, the hand that had stilled just over her ribcage. A smile came to her face, but she remained unmoving beneath him otherwise. "Kiss me."

So he did.


	46. Pursuit of Happiness

**Kid Cudi – Pursuit of Happiness (Nightmare)**

Taylor paced back and forth, waiting for her summons. Connor was following her with his eyes from his seat by the door. Her right wrist was in the splint that he'd gotten for her yesterday, so her left hand was tapping against her thigh as she walked. It was essential to get all of the nervous energy out now.

The door opened and she startled, turning. She expected Frank or David, who escorted them between the hotel and the hearings, ready to take them to the chamber. What she did not expect was Markus, quickly trailed by North.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice came out strained.

"It's good to see you, too, Taylor." Markus gave her an unaffectedly cheerful smile. Taylor felt herself tensing, until she felt Connor's hand on her elbow. He had stood from his chair and came to stand by her side. "Based on what Connor told me, I thought you could use some backup."

She turned then, and because he had moved so close, he was right there. She glared at him. He stared back, silent but not backing down. He just squeezed her arm gently. She couldn't say anything else to him now, so she turned back to Markus. He was watching the whole scene, looking between them with the smallest of smiles.

"Did you not listen at all to Raj's warning about Helping Humans?" Her emotions were going haywire, but she knew it was only because she was terrified. Markus being in Detroit felt safe, and seeing him here, in front of her, had sent the world tilting.

"We did actually. That's part of the reason we're here." North cut into the conversation, giving Markus a look out of the corner of her eye that left him chagrined. Taylor had a hard time reading it.

Of the founding members of Jericho, North had never exactly warmed to her. Because she had spent so much time helping deviants escaping, she was fully aware of North's model and had respected her boundaries. Because of it, North almost felt like a stranger to her, one that was nearly hostile.

"North is right. We have androids showing up in Detroit daily. Apparently, we've already been infiltrated." Markus glanced back at her, fixing her in his dual-colored stare. "A non-deviant android parading as a deviant doesn't hold up very well to questioning, turns out."

"We felt that Markus would be safer here, for the moment. Josh and Simon are in charge in the meantime." North frowned.

"Also, as I said, it appeared you could use some backup." Markus smiled again. Taylor felt herself start to relax just a little bit, until his eyes dropped down to her wrist. "By the way, what happened to you?"

"She was assaulted by a protester." Connor spoke up immediately, just over her shoulder. She had opened her mouth to speak, to brush him off, but she closed it again instead, frowning. She looked between the two of them as they stared each other down, feeling like she was missing something.

A knock at the door broke the brief silence. North moved to open it, then stepped aside and let the newcomer inside. If the arrival of Markus had thrown her for a loop, she certainly hadn't expected President Cristina Warren to come walking in next, flanked by her security personnel.

"I may have acquired some extra backup." Markus said by way of explanation, smiling again at what must have been the ridiculous look on Taylor's face.

"Miss Taylor Kolbeck. It's a pleasure to finally meet you." The President stepped forward, offered her hand. Taylor forced herself to move and take it. A smile touched Cristina Warren's face, tinged with mirth. "I believe you dated my son once."

"Oh. Yes. A while ago." She knew her face was turning red. She couldn't think of what else to say. "It's good to meet you, too, Madame President."

"I've been watching your progress over the past week." President Warren released her hand. "Keeping in conference with Vice President Mills. Our plan is to introduce an Equal Rights Act for deviants by the end of the week. We must achieve some semblance of peace and I hope to do it soon."

"That would be great," she said, nearly breathless. The idea that this could be over within the week, that Congress could be voting to pass a bill so soon sounded like a fantasy. If it were anyone other than the President saying it, she wouldn't even believe it to be possible.

"I'll see you in there very soon." The President nodded toward Markus and left the room again, her security detail following behind. Taylor looked over to Markus, her eyes wide.

"The President contacted me. It seems your new friend Secretary Alexis Headley has been making phone calls." Even he sounded impressed. "Something you have been doing here has made her a believer."

She bit her lip, not responding. There was a knock on the door a moment later. This time, it really was Frank, ready to escort them. Markus and North filed out immediately, but Taylor spent a few seconds collecting herself. Connor came up beside her again, his arm brushing against hers as he passed, turning back when he reached the door.

"Coming?" He gave her a small curve of his lips, raising his eyebrows. She took one step, then another, smiled as she joined him. She could do this.

Frank led the four of them through the hallways. When they entered the chamber, a hush settled over the room, and Taylor was reminded of her first day, the very first hearing. She really hoped that the President was right and that this would be over soon.

Said President wasn't in the room, but the Speaker of the House and the Vice President were already seated and getting ready to start the hearing. The Speaker was giving her his usual stoic look that had an underlying note of distaste that she attributed to her own paranoia. Every so often he would glance between the three androids that surrounded her.

The room was called to order, the prayer said, the Pledge of Allegiance. Taylor could feel the Speaker watching her the whole time, and she wasn't quite sure why until he finally spoke up, "Did you hurt yourself dancing, Miss Kolbeck?"

Heat crawled up her neck instantly. She knew that the subject of her dancing with Kent Warren had been a hot topic in the gossip columns over the weekend. Not unsurprisingly. She was here on political business and he was the President's son as much as he was a celebrity in his own right.

"Actually, I was assaulted by an android rights protestor outside my hotel," she bit off, gritting her teeth. She'd tried very hard not to make her celebrity the subject of this hearing. The last thing she wanted was Speaker Berkley throwing it in her face now. "I appreciate your concern."

He blanched. The Vice President at his left interrupted before he could make another comment. "Before we get started today, the President of the United States of America, Cristina Warren."

Everyone in the room stood again as President Warren finally joined them. A gentle shuffling followed as people resumed their seats. The silence settled in before the President began to speak.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, people of America. I am here today, in this room, because we stand at the precipice. Events are unfolding here that will echo for generations to come. I have been following the hearings taking place here in this room, but I have also been listening to the American people."

The President paused, gazed around the room. "In light of the current state of affairs with Russia, it is more important than ever that our country remains united. On behalf of Vice President Mills and Speaker of the House Berkley, the hearing for today will be cancelled. Tomorrow you will all reconvene for closing statements, and then the Equal Rights Act for deviant androids will be introduced into the House of Representatives for a vote."

The President paused again. Taylor could hear the very muted tittering in the chamber, feel the tensions rising. Clearly, most everyone was hearing this news for the first time. Only the Vice President and the Speaker looked unmoved.

"I am hoping that we will enter into the new year a unified people, and that the representatives seated here today will listen to their constituents. The voice of the people has been loud and clear. We only have to listen."

* * *

ANDROIDS AREN'T ALIVE

Taylor took a sip of her tea, eyeing the protestors through the front windows of the hotel. The brace that Connor had insisted she wear was sitting on the table. She was turning her hand in a slow circle, testing it out. Only small twinges of pain if she bent it a certain way. Not bad at all.

POWER TO THE PEOPLE

She had been amusing herself for the past hour, sitting down here in the coffee shop that was a part of the hotel, just reading all of the signs. They were definitely with Helping Humans because several of them were waving the telltale LED with a line through it, but the other slogans left much to be desired.

ORGANICS OVER MECHANICS

Okay, that had a bit of a ring to it. She took another sip of tea, glancing at her closed notebooks. She'd come down here to brainstorm on what to say in her closing statement tomorrow, but as usual, had no luck. Too easily distracted.

Strumming her fingers against the table, she winced as another shiver of pain arced from her wrist through her forearm. Connor had gone to speak with Markus when they'd arrived back at the room. For once, she had no desire to be a part of the conversation.

She spotted Markus now as he crossed the lobby in her direction. His tall stature and broad shoulders made him hard to miss. Whatever the two androids had to discuss must have come to a close, she just hoped that Connor didn't freak out when she wasn't in the room. She left a note.

"Careful, you might start a riot if they spot you." Taylor smiled up at him as he took the seat across from her at her small café table. He raised his eyebrows, then followed her line of sight to the sign-waving humans outside of the hotel.

"I believe you're more recognizable than I am. How long have you been sitting here?" Markus returned her smile with one of his own. She enjoyed his smiles a lot more when he wasn't laughing at her.

"Well, it didn't work out well for me when I faced them by myself," she laughed. Her laughter faded quickly when his smile tugged down into a frown. He leaned forward and took her injured wrist in his hands.

"I thought that sending you here, to Washington, would curb your recklessness." There was a strain in his voice that she hadn't expected. It made her heart ache, made her feel guilty. "I also thought that having Connor with you would ensure your safety."

"It's not his fault." She pulled her hand away, folded it into her lap, out of sight. "He wasn't there at the time. You're just going to have to live with the fact that humans are more fragile than androids."

"I suppose so." He chuckled, halfhearted, leaning back in his chair. His eyes found her abandoned notebooks, settled on the table between them. "Working?"

"I was trying to think of something to say for my closing statement tomorrow," she said, nodding. She drained the last of the tea from her cup and then resumed her strumming on the table, her gaze now fixed on the notebooks. "Trouble is, I don't know what to say that I haven't already."

When she finally raised her head, Markus was looking at her, chin resting in his hand. "I know I've told you already, but I think you're amazing."

"Shut up." She huffed, rolling her eyes, but she could feel herself blushing. He laughed. "Flattery isn't helping."

"Are you and Connor official now?" His smile widened as her blushed deepened, but she wasn't about to indulge him.

"That depends, are you and North a thing? I noticed you were sharing a room, too?" His mirth faltered, his cheeks getting that telltale tint of blue. She'd had an inkling about the two of them since before the revolution, but they'd played their cards very close to their chest.

"Well...that is to say..." She laughed then, and he relaxed when he noticed she was teasing him. His reaction was enough of an answer, anyway. He was quiet for a minute, and then he said, "Connor is very worried about you."

Taylor nearly flinched. She reached for her tea again, something to do with her hands, then remembered it was empty. Instead she folded both hands in her lap, under the table. With disbelief in her voice, she said, "Is that really what he came to talk to you about?"

"No. I can just tell." Markus had watched her tuck her hands away but focused on her face now. "He made a point in letting me know how difficult this past week has been. To make sure I came, I think."

She sighed through her nose but didn't respond at first. "And if this Equal Rights Act does get passed, what then? Do you really think that Helping Humans and other anti-android groups are just going to quietly bow their heads and agree to fall in line?"

"What do you anticipate happening?" He didn't sound surprised, just openly curious of her thoughts.

"I think they'll try to repeal. Immediately. I don't know exactly how big or widespread they've become, but they must have gained a lot of influence over the last couple of months. They'll try to push new representatives through in the elections to achieve that end. They won't stop."

They stared at each other for a moment, before Taylor shifted her gaze over his shoulder, back to the protestors. She watched them, waving their signs, thinking. Finally, Markus said, "What do you think we should do? To stop them?"

Her eyes flickered back to his. Blue and green. Beautiful. Her brow furrowed. Here she was, this strange position again, caught up in events so much bigger than she was. One silly, pointless human sitting across from the leader of an android revolution, asking her what he should do.

For a long time, she said nothing. Considered his question and all the things to come. Then she said, "You'll just have to be louder than them. The whole point of this is to give deviants a voice, their freedom. Once you have it, take it with both hands. Don't give it back. You told me at Jericho that your people wanted their own voice. You must make them use it."

Markus was quiet, considering her words. She reached for her brace, placing it back over her wrist and adjusting the straps. "Do you think that passing this law will really give us freedom?"

"It's a very important first step," she said. "Laws don't change people's minds. There's a reason Raj is still doing his work. Nothing is perfect." She looked up at him again, raising her eyebrows, giving him an encouraging smile. "I will still be helping. Why is it you think we met, you and I?"

"I don't know, why?" He sounded almost distracted, still contemplating her words, still thinking of what had happened and what would come in the next few days. But she was gathering up her notebooks, getting ready to toss her cup in the recycle bin and head up to the room to work on her statement.

"Because I have the loudest voice."

* * *

Connor was rolling his coin across his knuckles when Taylor's phone starting ringing. She had been sitting on the windowsill, staring listlessly out of the window just moments before, but she had been anticipating the phone call. Her phone was resting beside her knee, and she picked it up to answer it.

"Hello, Alex." Her eyes didn't move from the window as she listened to whatever Alex was saying on the other end of the line. Then they flickered in his direction for a brief moment. "No, it's fine. It doesn't even hurt."

She went quiet again, listening to his side of the conversation. Occasionally giving one-word answers. At the end of it, she said, "Alex, Markus showed up today. After tomorrow's hearing, I'm probably just going to be hanging around the hotel." She paused, and then, "You don't have to call every day to check on me."

There was a brief interlude of silence. Connor imagined that Alex hadn't said anything for a moment or two, but he must have responded eventually. It was hard to tell from Taylor's perfectly blank facial expression. Finally, after several minutes, she said, "Okay. Bye, Alex."

She hung up. Placed the phone back on the windowsill before she stood. He watched her cross the room to the bed and climb into it, lying fully clothed on top of the covers. She rolled over so that her back was facing him.

A couple of hours before now she had arrived back to the room, notebooks in hand, fresh from the café downstairs. She'd tried to work on her closing statement for the next day for a while, had spent some time catching up with her social media accounts as a distraction, and eventually ended up by the window waiting for Alex's phone call.

Connor caught the coin between his fingers and tucked it away, but he didn't move. He just continued to watch the blonde curled up on the bed, concern lining his brow, until she turned back over and caught him staring.

At this distance he couldn't see all the colors in her eyes. Just blue, but they were beautiful to him just the same. He felt that familiar ache, the desire to touch her, so much a part of him now that he couldn't discern it from the rest of his programming.

"Will you come here?" Her voice was soft. She reached a hand toward him and he rose from his chair to go to her. A moment later he was sliding his arms around her waist, pressing against her. She folded a leg over his hip, drawing him in.

Her hand came up, touching his face, smoothing over his brow. At some point, she had taken off her brace, he realized. She smiled, softly, her fingers curling into his hair. "Stop making that face."

"What face?" He asked, puzzled, his brow creasing again. She laughed quietly and moved her hand from his hair again, pressing her index finger into the wrinkles that had formed between his eyebrows.

"That worried face." She slid her hand back into his hair, scraping her nails gently along his scalp. He fought off the urge to close his eyes. Her lips were still curved into a smile when she said, "I'm okay."

"Would you tell me if you weren't?" He said in return. She was twisting locks of his hair around the tips of her fingers, and her smile didn't falter as she considered his question.

"I'm exhausted." She admitted. "I'm stressed out. I have no idea what I'm going to say tomorrow. Otherwise, I'm fine."

Her hand finally stilled against the side of his face. Soft lines appeared around her eyes when her smile widened, and she said, "Distract me. Tell me something."

"Tell you what?" He asked, still perplexed.

"Anything," she breathed. Her eyes shifted over his face, and then she said, "You never told me about when you became deviant."

Surprised, Connor froze, his LED circling yellow. Taylor's voice had just been a whisper, hesitant, tapering into nothing. Her eyes shifted downward, away from his. Nervous. Over what, he couldn't understand.

"After you left the investigation," he began, still watching her face. Her eyes flickered back to his and she seemed to relax. Anxious that he wouldn't answer, maybe? "They were going to hand the case over to the FBI. I was going to be sent back to CyberLife, but I thought that there was still a chance to solve the case."

Taylor had gone very still in his arms. Just brushing her thumb across the curve of his cheek as she listened. He had not retold the story to anyone before, had scarcely even thought about it. He had the same surreal feeling as when he told Hank about his mistakes with Taylor. A freedom in the unburdening.

"Hank caused a distraction while I broke into the evidence room. I found the information I needed to locate Jericho. It was just a matter of disguising myself and making my way there." He frowned as the memories came back. Remembering things now, as a deviant, versus his machine memories had a different impression to them. Though he could recall things with exact precision as an android, things he remembered as a deviant appeared in color in contrast to his previous memories, sepia-toned in comparison.

"Once I was onboard the freighter, it didn't take me long to locate Markus. He was with North, Josh, and Simon. I waited until he was alone. I was going to shoot him. End the revolution." He paused, bringing the image to his mind. Markus with his hands in the air, calm as he ever was, talking him down. "Markus talked me out of it."

"Well, what did he say?" She asked, unable to contain her curiosity. He raised his eyebrows at her sudden interruption, and she smiled, explaining, "He turned the deviant hunter himself. I have to know."

"It doesn't matter what he said." Connor insisted. "I was thinking about Hank. About never seeing him again. I was thinking about you. About when you kissed me. I already had doubts."

He pulled his arm back to reach into his jacket pocket, where he usually kept his coin. His fingers closed around the other object there, a thin piece of plastic, and he pulled it free. He offered it to her in the small space between them, and when she turned it over, her eyes widened.

It was her consultant identification badge for the Detroit Police Department. The one she had pressed into his hand in that hallway just before she kissed him for the very first time. She had asked him to return it to the Captain. Before he turned deviant, he hadn't found time in the rush to Jericho. Afterward, he had simply wanted to keep it.

"I saw the walls around my programming, and I tore them down." He said, pulling her gaze back to his, though her fingers were still tight around the badge. "As soon as I was free, I knew it had been a trap. I tried to warn Markus, but the attack began almost immediately. They were watching me. Waiting.

"Markus decided to blow up the ship. He sent word to his people to evacuate. I thought you were gone. I thought you were in California." He hesitated, his eyes roaming over her face, every minute detail that he had memorized. "Not even five minutes later, you were in front of me again. I thought at first that becoming deviant had made me malfunction, but you were really there."

"I was there the whole time, you nerd," she said, grinning. Teasing him. "I couldn't believe _you _were there."

"You know the rest." He said. She was looking at him thoughtfully, glancing down at the badge she still held in between them. He looked away. "When CyberLife tried to regain control of my programming, Amanda told me that I had accomplished my mission. I was always meant to become deviant."

"Who's Amanda?" Connor looked up again. Taylor's eyebrows had drawn together, her lips puckered into a frown. He suddenly realized just how little he had told her. Why she had been so nervous to ask him a question.

"Do you remember when I told you that I used to send reports to CyberLife by closing my eyes?" She nodded. "Amanda was the interface for CyberLife, inside of my head. I don't believe she was a real person, though she may have been based on one. I saw a photo at Elijah Kamski's house that looked very much like her."

She appeared surprised for a moment. Then she went back to contemplating him, her eyes staring directly into his, thinking. Trying to understand. For the smallest moment, he thought this was what she must feel like all the time, while he was trying to puzzle her out.

"She was wrong about one thing," she finally said, her face smoothing. She reached her hand inside of his jacket, tucked her badge away again, her fingers sliding along his chest as she felt for the pocket. "You did fail your mission."

"What?" He tried hard to focus while her hand slid over his chest, her fingertips tracing the edges of his shirt buttons.

"You didn't kill Markus," she clarified, smiling. "You came back to us. To me." Her hand came up to his face gain, her fingers moving along his jaw. "Now here you are, helping to free your people."

She curled her fingers through his hair again, but this time he noticed her wince. Reaching up, he captured her forearm in his hand and gently pulled her hand away, scanning her injured wrist. "Careful."

"I'm fine," she said, but she didn't resist his hold. "I have to move it sometime. It doesn't hurt that bad."

"A sprain is caused by small tears to the ligaments in your wrist," he said, tracing his thumb down the imprint of bruises as he spoke. "If you overdo it, you may tear the ligament more and make it worse."

She huffed but must have realized she could not argue. "Thank you for telling me."

"You can ask anything," he said, insistent. Perhaps he was sorry for how timidly she had asked the question, as if he would keep secrets from her. "I will always tell you. Whatever you want to know."

Another smile touched her face, slight and happy. He ducked his head closer to her and pressed his lips to hers. Because he wanted to, and because he was not used to wanting things yet, not impulsively. She was surprised, but she kissed him back without hesitation, sliding up against him.

He broke away a few moments later. Her wrist was still locked firmly in his grip, one leg wrapped around him, and he had the wild impulse to flip her onto her back and pin her beneath him. He forcibly reigned in his thoughts when he pulled away from her, but it had only been marginally successful.

Taylor was watching him, her pupils dark, dilated. She was smiling like she knew exactly what he was thinking. She was still pressed into him, and with every panting breath he could feel her chest moving against his, feel the wild ticking of her pulse beneath his fingers.

"Haven't I distracted you long enough? Don't you think you should get back to work?" He said, gently, releasing her arm. He knew that if he kissed her again, he would lose himself in her. She sighed.

"Ugh, fine. I guess you're right." She disentangled her limbs from him and rolled away, standing from the bed. A few moments later she was seated back at the table, poring over her notebooks and notes again.

Connor sat up and moved back to the table to join her. He was content to watch her in silence, returning to his coin. She chewed on the end of her pen, her eyes moving over the page. Every once in a while, she would look up, watch him. Then she would stare at the vase full of roses in between them, her eyes glazed over in thought.

An hour passed in this quiet loop. He was about to suggest she take a break to eat something when she sat straight in her chair. "I think I've got it."


	47. Wild Hearts Can't Be Broken

**Pink – Wild Hearts Can't Be Broken**

Taylor had her eyes closed, listening. Speaker of the House Berkley was giving his closing statements, arguing against granting citizenship to deviants when no one had proven definitively that they were a sentient form of life. As she knew he would. On one side of her was Connor, the other, Markus.

She supposed she shouldn't have her eyes closed, but she was centering herself, preparing for the moment to come. Before auditions she used to put in earplugs, close her eyes, and block out everything in an attempt to calm her nerves. In her head, she would tell herself that an hour from now, this would all be over and in the past. Just get through it.

Vice President Mills had delivered a very pragmatic call for unity, echoing the President's sentiments that regarded the country's need to stand together and the will of the people. She supposed it made sense, he was Warren's chosen running mate after all.

"Taylor Kolbeck, ambassador for the android uprising." Taylor felt the muscles in her face twitch and struggled to smooth her features. Opened her eyes. She could feel her heart pounding in her ears, but she ignored it and the cameras that were focusing on her face.

Markus had given her, in her opinion, a rather noncommittal approval when she told him her plan for the closing statement. He really had entrusted this whole thing to her, and when she expressed any doubt, he told her that she knew how to handle humans better than any of them.

She supposed it was true.

"I've spent the past week trying to convince the people in this room that deviants are, in fact, people. I don't think that there is anything else I can personally say to that effect." She raised her blue eyes to look directly at Speaker Berkley. Focusing on one person made it easier to speak. She used to do that in her auditions, too. He was looking back at her, his lips pinched into a frown.

"I've met many deviants over the past eight months, learned a lot of different stories. But some stick with you more than others. Instead of going over the same points, rehashing everything I've already said, I'm going to leave you with one of those stories."

Taylor moved her hands, folded over the desk in front of her and the notebook she already had opened to the page she needed. Her eyes stared at the words for a few seconds, the perfect scrawl of CyberLife sans across the pages. In just a few minutes, this would be over. She took a deep breath.

"_Cary was born blind. She had lived her whole life in darkness, under the watchful eyes of her parents. At the age of 24, she decided that she wanted to live on her own. After many fights and arguments, her parents finally agreed, on one condition. They purchased me, a PL600 model android, to help care for Cary in her new home._

"_Everything should have been simple. Cary was accustomed to being blind, she just needed help adjusting to her new environment. She was very averse to my help, no matter how difficult things became for her._

"_It was in my programming to help her, and so I was forced to work around her stubbornness. I had the advantage because she couldn't see me. I didn't realize at first that my behavior had started to deviate from my programming, coming up with ways to outsmart her into accepting my help. Because she didn't know anything about androids, she didn't know either._

"_It happened slowly, but I realized it all at once. I worried for Cary all the time, and I was afraid that she would figure out that I was feeling things. Deviancy had become a very talked about topic on the news and Cary followed the stories every night, but she never asked me about it._

"_The more emotions that I experienced, the more Cary seemed to tolerate my presence. Or maybe it was just time. It's hard to figure out what you're feeling sometimes, let alone anyone else._

"_I thought I could carry on with my secret indefinitely. No matter how much I had come to care for Cary, I knew I could never say anything. But humans have a saying: all good things must end. _

"_Cary liked to take walks. Every night she wanted to take a few laps around the park close to her home. She lived in an upscale neighborhood, but she was still a young woman alone in a big city with just an android for company. While Cary couldn't see it for herself, she was quite pretty._

"_Anyone can work out what happened next. One evening we were out for our walk and two men approached, started harassing her. She told them to leave her alone, and when they didn't, I warned them that I would call the police._

"_They didn't like an android telling them what to do. They pushed me down, started hitting me. I think when Cary started to scream and people started to notice them, they got spooked. They ran off, but by then I had been severely damaged._

"_Cary was panicked. She wanted to take me to the nearest CyberLife store for repairs, but I knew that if she did, CyberLife would destroy me. I told her the truth. I was deviant. There was no time to waste coming up with a lie. She was quiet for just a moment, and then she said she knew where we could go._

Taylor paused to take a breath. Her hands were shaking where she had them resting on the desk. She was about to move them, tuck them into her lap and out of sight, when Connor reached over and slid his fingers through hers.

She glanced at him, surprised. His deep brown eyes were focused on her face, but his expression was carefully blank. They had been vigilant about appearing professional before now. He had never touched her while they were in this room as co-ambassadors. For the briefest moment, she worried what might happen.

But his touch had grounded her. She could focus again. And she found she didn't care, if people started to talk. If people knew. After today, her role as ambassador was done. She took one more deep breath, and the she continued.

"_I don't know how long it took us to make it to the taxi, or how long the drive was. Many of my systems were malfunctioning. I was losing thirium. Humans might compare the experience to losing consciousness. Errors flashed before my eyes, making it hard to focus. I knew I was teetering close to a shutdown counter._

"_We managed to make it to whatever destination Cary had in mind, some house, some person who would help us, but my thirium levels had reached critical levels. We had to wait on someone else to arrive, another android who could fix me. I knew there was no time. My countdown had already started._

"_I reached for Cary's hand. She looked pale, and frightened. I tried to tell her that it would be fine, but my voice was all static. I smeared blue blood along her arm on accident. She started to cry, and I couldn't speak, couldn't say anything, couldn't tell her what I felt._

"_The android arrived with less than a minute to spare on my shutdown timer. He took one look at me and knew there was nothing to be done. Except for one thing. I couldn't tell Cary how I felt, but he could. So I grabbed his arm and I interfaced with him. I gave him every memory of Cary that I had, every rogue deviant thought, so he would understand. So he would know what to say._

"_I hope that it was enough. I hope that Cary is happy._"

* * *

The anteroom was quiet. Taylor had headed straight back to it once the hearing ended, not waiting for Frank or David to escort her out, not even turning to see if Connor was following her. She just had to get out of the room before her composure started to crumble away.

Now though, she was sitting on the arm of one of the accent chairs and the roiling anxiety doing laps inside her skull would not manifest itself. Tilted slightly forward, her forearms resting on her thighs, she stared at her open palms waiting for something to happen.

The door clicked softly. She looked up to find that Connor had caught up to her at last. He had tucked her notebooks into his arm, and as he looked her over his LED slid from amber back to its cool blue. In a couple of his long strides, he crossed the room to her side, placing the notebooks down on a table.

"Are you alright?" He asked gently, reaching to touch her arm. He didn't qualify it with the usual information about her stress level or vital signs. He had figured out during their time in Washington that pointing out these facts only increased her stress more, so he'd learned to curb the habit. Unless she tried to deny it.

Taylor just made a hum of acknowledgment, reaching back for him. It was all the encouragement he needed to step closer and wrap his arms around her. A shuddering breath rocked her chest. She curled her fingers into the lapels of his jacket, pressing her forehead into his shoulder, stilling.

"Would you like to talk about it?" Connor's voice was soft, muffled into the top of her hair. "I find that talking can be very therapeutic."

Her lips twitched in an attempt to smile, but the persistent vein of numbness curling through her prevented it. She felt oddly empty, a canister poured out with just one drop left swirling around the bottom.

"You're learning a lot about emotions, huh?" She said instead, hoping to distract both him and herself. Maybe she would get lucky for once and Connor would start talking about something else.

The door clicked again, louder this time. Taylor lifted her head, found Markus standing just inside the room. His two-tone gaze was shifting between them, but his expression was neutral. After a beat of silence, he said, "I came to check on you."

Connor released her, but not entirely. He kept one arm wrapped around the middle of her back, his fingers tucked against her waist. She found she didn't mind that either, his lingering touch, how he always knew when she needed him the most.

"I'm alright." Markus's eyes squinted slightly at the lie. He wasn't Connor, however, and he didn't call her out. Instead he took another step toward her. Taylor let her hands fall back into her lap, palms facing upward. Then she found herself glancing down at her palms, imagining them coated in thirium. She tucked them between her knees instead.

"That story that you told," He began, tracking her movements with his eyes before meeting her gaze. She wondered if he'd figured out her anxiety tell like Connor had.

"His name was Brandon." She said before he could voice the question. "I knew Cary's parents. Her dad was an actor. She knew that I had been on the news talking about deviants, so she brought Brandon to my house."

Taylor lowered her head again, remembering. The blue blood everywhere, Cary's panicked face, the oddly quiet android practically in pieces on her kitchen floor.

"I called Raj, but it was too late." She swallowed the lump forming in her throat. She thought that she had moved past this, somewhat, but reliving it hadn't been easy. "He died and there was nothing I could do."

Silence settled over them. Her hands shifted, but she kept them curled tightly in between her knees. She felt Connor's grip tighten on her waist, but this time it was less comforting. Finally, Markus said, "It doesn't sound like there was anything you could have done."

A smile touched her face then, empty, mirthless. She glanced up at Markus and found him frowning at her. "The story does make it seem that way. But Brandon didn't shut down because he suffered damage to any of his essential biocomponents. He lost too much thirium, his systems started to shut down one by one, shunting supply to his main processors. By the time Raj made it there, it was just too late to reverse the process."

"Taylor—" Markus tried to interrupt her, but it was too late for that now.

"If I would have just had some thirium when they showed up on my doorstep, Brandon might have lived. I think about that all the time." Her shoulders hunched forward, but she didn't look away. "I made Raj teach me how to help the next android who would show up at my house. I started keeping thirium and spare biocomponents there just in case."

Markus had pressed his lips into a flat line. He let out a small huff of a breath through his nose, surely an outward display of some emotion since he didn't actually need to breathe.

"You asked me why I was doing this." Taylor lifted one of her hands to touch Connor's fingers. They had tightened almost painfully against her side, but they relaxed slightly when she slid her own hand over his.

"I couldn't answer you. I know you wanted me to tell you something noble or inspired." In a quieter voice, she said, "I'm sorry that I can't be that for you. You'll find that humans usually aren't."

Markus continued to watch her until he figured that she wasn't going to say anything else. Then he came closer. "You are that to me. I will keep telling you until you tire of it. Until you believe it." He paused, his eyes flickering over the notebooks that Connor had placed on the table. "Will you tell me the stories?"

"You can take them."

"No." Her eyebrows jumped upwards. Markus met her eyes again, his expression warm. She found herself being pulled into those mismatched eyes, just like always. "Will you tell them to me?"

She was silent for a minute. They considered each other. She could still feel Connor's hand on her side, the warmth of his fingers under hers. Still stuck in this strange circle. "If you want me to."

"Thank you." There was an extra weight behind his words, like he was thanking her for more than just saying yes to his request. He hesitated, and this time he glanced towards Connor for such a brief second she might have imagined it. "I'm sorry for sending you here alone. I had no idea what you would be up against."

"There's no way you could have." She said, solicitous, though her eyebrows had drawn together in confusion. Perhaps she had been the subject of conversation in at least one of Markus and Connor's private talks. Fighting the urge to turn her head and look at his face, knowing it would be too obvious, instead she said objectively, "As I recall, you both bullied me into accepting this job."

Markus pursed his lips, but it was easy to tell he was trying to hold in a laugh at her not so subtle calling out of Connor. Before anything else could be said, he inclined his head. "I should go before I keep North waiting any longer. I will hear about it later."

"See you later, Markus." Taylor watched him go, the door closing behind him, before she finally lowered her hand from where it was touching Connor's. She stood, turning to face him, cupping his face in her hands. He had averted his eyes, knowing she was onto him.

"For future reference," she began, trying not to giggle. He must have heard the laughter in her voice because he turned his brown eyes back to her, his brow furrowing. "I don't want you to argue with Markus on my behalf. As flattering and adorable as that is."

"I'm sorry," he said, though he didn't look it in the least. He was scanning her face again. "You never answered my question."

Was she alright? For a moment, she debated teasing him some more, but the earnest look on his face was filling her with guilt. "I'm better now. Even better if we can get out of here."

"Of course."


	48. Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince

**Taylor Swift – Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince**

Taylor put her earbuds in and flipped through her phone. She lowered herself onto the top step of the stairwell, checking to make sure she still had service here. Shaking Connor hadn't been easy, but she had eventually convinced him that he needed to go reconcile whatever disagreement he had with Markus while she ordered room service.

She wasn't entirely sure why she didn't want Connor to know she was going off to talk to Alex in private, except that it was about him. Just the whole thing was making her nervous, and maybe she was still on the fence about whether she wanted to stay in Detroit or go home to Los Angeles.

The phone started to ring in her ear, and she closed her eyes, waiting for him to answer. Feeling her heart rate increase. Her lips quirked when she imagined Connor scanning her. Knowing. "Well, well. Finally made time in your busy schedule to call."

"Hey Alex," she sighed. It had really only been a day since she told him he didn't need to call her every day to check on her, but he wasn't going to let it pass without comment. That wasn't in his nature.

"Are you staying in Washington D.C. while they vote on this bill?" He sounded like he'd been itching to ask it. Taylor sat the phone in her hand down on the stair, just by her hip, and crossed her arms over her knees.

"I don't think so. Nothing is decided just yet, but I think we'll fly back to Detroit by then end of the week. Next week at the earliest." She didn't want to tell him they might put in the extra days because of the threat from Helping Humans. There was no need to worry him unnecessarily. "We have no idea how long it will take the bill to get through Congress, if it even passes. President Warren is hoping it passes through before the holidays."

"And what about you?" Alex asked it very neutrally, but she knew what he really wanted to know. How soon would she be coming back to Los Angeles? At the end of the day, he only cared about this insomuch as she was a part of it. He wasn't asking about the bill at all.

"I didn't call to talk about my flight plans," she said finally. She leaned forward, pressed her forehead against her folded arms, listening to the silence all around her.

"Well what did you call to talk about?" Alex said when he realized she wasn't continuing. He sounded apprehensive now. She wished she knew if he suspected or if he just thought she was going to say that she was never coming home. As the silence stretched on, he added, softer, "I'm listening, Taylor."

Just that was enough to almost break her. She couldn't bring herself to imagine doing anything to hurt him, not on purpose. He was the person who had stuck around, who had waded through all of her messes and put all of her pieces back together. He was the one who was always there, always checking on her. He was her family.

"You were right," she managed to croak out, over the raw lump in her throat that was forming already.

"You gotta be more specific. That happens all the time with me." He was trying to make a joke, trying to make her smile. He could already tell how fragile she was becoming. He could always tell. She smiled despite herself.

"About Connor." She huffed, a tremble going up her spine. She didn't think it would be this hard. "About me and Connor. You were right. I lied."

"Oh." Alex's one-word response was hard to decipher. Perhaps more surprise than anything else. Clearly, he was expecting her to say something else. "Taylor, I was teasing before. I really don't care if you're in love with an android."

"I know." Almost a whisper now. Maybe she was just telling him as a prelude to the real truth: she couldn't leave Connor now. But she didn't want to leave Alex either. Life wasn't fair.

"You're serious about this, huh?" A choked laugh escaped her before she could stifle it.

"What gave it away?"

"Oh, I don't know, the really dramatic phone call?" He drawled it, and she could picture his smile behind her eyelids. It brought a real smile to her face. "Why Connor, anyway? I thought maybe you'd go with Markus in the end and form some human-android power couple."

Taylor snorted, and then started to giggle uncontrollably. In the back of her mind, she knew Alex had only said it as a joke, but the images it conjured made her want to laugh hysterically. "Don't bring that up in front of anyone else, please."

He laughed then, but when the sound of both of their laughter faded, he asked, "Seriously though. Why him?"

It was Alex's way of protecting her. She knew that. He had been through her relationships before. Her breakups. So he wanted to know if this was serious. He was protecting her, like always.

She paused to consider the question he had asked. Why Connor? "I've met a lot of people. Human and android. Comes with the gig, right?" It was her feeble attempt at a return joke. To let him know she was okay. He huffed a laugh.

"There aren't any like Connor." She said quietly. "He's just good." Another hesitation. She thought of his face, the soft furrow in his brow, the warm touch of his hands. "When he looks at me, he sees me. Not a celebrity or a lie or a past, just me. And he loves me."

"You say that like it's impossible." Alex sounded a little sad now, but he continued, "I'm happy for you. I give you my blessing, if that's what you want. At least I can be sure he will look out for you."

That last tidbit did surprise her, just a little. As with her career, Alex was territorial about her safety. He didn't trust anyone else to keep her safe because he didn't trust them to know when she was lying. Maybe he just knew she couldn't lie to Connor even if she tried, or maybe they had developed some kind of rapport when she wasn't looking.

The hush petered on, both in the stairwell and on the line. They were at an impasse. She knew he was waiting for the next line, for her to say she was staying in Detroit. With her eyes still closed, she could picture him so perfectly, sitting in Emily's nursery that he'd had to repaint because he'd been so convinced that he was going to have a boy. He'd be in the rocking chair, but still, not moving, the phone pressed to his ear because he didn't like using earbuds, didn't even like texting.

"I told him I had to come back home when this is over." She cut him loose from his anticipation, because in that picture in her head he looked unhappy. She would do anything if it meant he wouldn't be sad.

"You did, huh?" What she didn't expect was the lack of relief in his voice when he answered. He sounded carefully impartial now, and she really wished she could see his face. "Can I ask you something now, Taylor?"

"Of course," she said, even though she could already feel the fear squeezing around the heart in her chest. It was the way he said it. Unsettling.

"What does home mean to you?" He said it clearly, without hesitation. Just a question, but if her head hadn't been tucked into her arms, she would have flinched. She thought of her house in Los Angeles, of Alex and his family, of her career. Helping androids with Raj.

"Home is there. It's in L.A., with you," she said, but her voice faltered.

"What is Connor to you, then?" Alex asked next, unaffected. She hated him in this moment. How easily he picked her apart and cut right to the quick. "Someone you love or someone you leave behind?"

"H-He's—" Her fingers clenched around her knees. She didn't want to speak with the tremor in her voice. "Why are you asking me this? I thought you wanted me to come home."

"I'm asking because I care about you, Taylor." Alex sighed, deep and heavy and full of the sadness he had forced from his tone a few minutes before. "You have enough regrets already, I think. Do you think I want to be responsible for another one?"

A helpless, breathless laugh escaped her, emotion on the verge of hysteria. She was swinging between the urge to cry and laugh, and she was really tired of crying at this point. "How noble of you to make this harder for me."

"Or easier, depending how you take it. I know it's your forte and all, but don't make it harder than it has to be." The twinge of teasing had crept back into his voice now, but she knew he was just trying to hide his feelings at this point. For her sake.

She remembered, suddenly, that moment when she had told him that she'd accepted this job. To be the ambassador for Markus and the deviants. Sitting across from him in that hotel room in Detroit, with him drilling her about her mental health. When she had hugged him, she thought she felt him shudder, but had dismissed it as her imagination.

In this moment, her eyes squeezed shut, arms wrapped around her knees, his words echoing in her head, she knew she hadn't imagined it. He had held it in, hidden it from her. Protected her, and she had been too selfish to see it at the time.

"I'll try."

* * *

"Taylor?" Connor spoke as softly as he could manage, trying not to startle the blonde curled on the stairs. He had found her just a bit ago, in the middle of a conversation with what must have been Alex. He hadn't wanted to eavesdrop, but when he realized what the conversation was about, he somehow couldn't make himself leave.

Taylor startled anyway, despite his efforts. She'd been quiet long enough that he was quite sure that Alex was no longer on the line with her, but she hadn't moved. Now she turned to face him, her face blanched white.

"You weren't in the room." He said, almost conversationally. As explanation for his presence. He didn't add that he had found her quickly by tracking the signal on her phone. Somehow, he thought she would not approve. Instead, he asked, "Did you actually eat, or was that a lie, too?"

"Also a lie," she admitted sheepishly, grimacing. The color started to return to her face, slowly, and she stood, picking up her phone as she did. "There's still plenty of time for that. We can go back now."

Connor nodded, reaching his hand out to her. She didn't hesitate to take it, sliding her fingers through his. He continued to watch her in his peripherals as they left the staircase, heading back down the hallway toward their room.

"You didn't have to sneak away to talk to Alex," he said after a moment, holding the door open so she could enter. She slipped past him but threw a surprised look over her shoulder. "I would have given you privacy."

There was a smile on her face when she finally turned enough for him to see her expression again, settling on the bed. She reached for the room phone to order food as she had promised. Before she lifted the receiver, her blue eyes flickered over him again. "Don't take this the wrong way, Connor, but your concept of privacy still needs work."

His LED pulsed yellow for a few seconds while he considered her words. He thought back to the pieces of the conversation he had managed to overhear in the stairwell, most of it related to her return to Los Angeles that she assured him was inevitable. Yet from what he gleaned in his one-sided access to the conversation, Alex wasn't as sure.

Whatever small bit of understanding he thought he had of Alex now needed to be reevaluated. The other man had been adamant about Taylor's return home, yet now expressed doubts about it. Alex was already an anomaly to him, someone who was closer to Taylor than anyone else, who seemed to hold a secret codex to everything about her.

Yet as hard as he tried, Connor could not get a grasp on their relationship. At times, Taylor acted like she would do anything that Alex told her to do, and the next moment she would deliberately mislead him if not outright lie to him. Perhaps he just was too new to emotions to understand the complex levels that relationships could have. Taylor had said to him, in this very room, that loving someone gave them the power to hurt you.

"Happy now?" Taylor was smiling at him. Connor blinked, realizing she had returned the phone to its cradle, done with her ordering. As he took in the sight of her, he wondered if there was any hope that he could understand any of her other relationships when he still couldn't quite process the complexity of his own emotional response when he looked at her.

"May I ask you a personal question?" He hadn't phrased the question as such in quite a long time, but it evoked the response he was hoping for. She laughed.

"Always." When her laughter faded, she considered him again, her head tilting slightly. "I promised you that much the first day we met, remember?"

He did remember it, with exact detail. How she had asked him not to search the internet for her, looking totally unaffected. Looking back on it, knowing what he knew, he could see the lie in it now.

"I don't think I understand your relationship with Alex." He said it with complete honesty. He felt he owed her that much. Taylor's face went blank. She blinked, and then stared at him for a full minute, as though waiting for him to say more.

When he didn't, she patted the empty space on the bed beside her, inviting him to come closer. Connor crossed the room and eased down onto the bed, the mattress dipping slightly. Taylor crossed her legs in front of her and leaned closer, but she didn't move to touch him.

Still, she was quiet for a while. So long that he was worried he had crossed a line, asked something he should not have asked. Hesitantly, he said, "You don't have to—"

"No," she cut him off, shaking her head. A soft smile touched her face. "It's not...I'm trying to think of how to start." Her eyes lifted to meet his once more, still smiling. He liked being this close, seeing the dark blue of her eyes fading into lighter shades. "If my life was a tapestry and Alex was a thread, you couldn't pull him out without unraveling the whole thing."

He frowned, trying to understand the metaphor. Her smile never faded, but she did reach for his hand then, curling her fingers through his as she spoke. "How about I tell you the story of when we first met? Maybe it will give you some perspective."

"Okay." He agreed because he didn't really know what he was asking to know to begin with, and so he was willing to accept whatever she offered. If it helped him to understand. If it gave him a chance to convince her to stay.

"I was ten. I had been doing _Chloe's Corner_ for years at that point. I did other work occasionally, but I was miserable." Her lips twitched, the smile dropping off of her face. "I had a different agent then. Older. His name was Garrett, but he insisted that I call him Mr. Hemming."

Her gaze had drifted off toward the floor, away from him, remembering. "He never took me seriously. I fought with him all the time, about everything he wanted me to do. I threatened to quit _Chloe's Corner_. I told my mom if she didn't get me a new agent that I would never act again."

"That doesn't sound like you," he said. The scrunched look on her face relaxed, just a bit, and she smiled again.

"I was acting out." Their eyes met. She looked to be weighing something, then she continued, "The truth is, he reminded me of Anthony. Not that he was ever like that. But I was under too much stress, and I just..." Another hesitation, her eyes dropping again. He squeezed her hand, and it seemed to give her enough push to say, "I just wanted my mom to look at me. To see."

Connor knew his LED was pulsing red. He tried to picture ten-year-old Taylor, rebelling in the hope that her mother would figure out the truth. When his stress levels continued to spike, he had to let the notion go and listen as Taylor continued the story.

"Well, she at least listened to my request for a new agent. She took me with her to interview some new candidates." Taylor smiled again. "Alex was an intern. The gopher who fetched coffee or whatever. But he snuck into the interview room when my mom left to meet me."

"Fan of yours?" He asked, mostly because she had gone quiet again, remembering the moment. The question made her snort, and she shook her head.

"No, that's the thing. I asked him if he wanted an autograph or something, but he told me he'd never watched a single thing I'd been in." Her grin widened. "He didn't even like my mom's music. He just wanted to meet someone famous, because he really wanted to be an agent, but they wouldn't let him around any of the celebrities.

"I was enamored with him. I thought he was the coolest person I had ever met." A chuckle escaped her. "Of course, I was ten, so I don't know how much weight that holds. But when my mom came back into the room, she found the two of us laughing. When I told her later that I wanted Alex to be my agent, she caved surprisingly easily."

They were both quiet for a moment. Taylor pursed her lips before she said, "It was years later when Alex told me that he stuck around that day trying to cheer me up because he saw me walk in, and I was the most miserable little girl he'd ever seen."

"Do you make it a habit to find people who know nothing about you?" His lips were curved into the slightest of smiles. Her eyebrows raised in surprise, and then she laughed.

"Do you know how impossible that is for me?" She paused. "Alex became my agent after that. He was with me through everything that happened after. I doubt he knew what he was in for, when he met me, but we were inseparable. My mom must have seen it too, even though it never felt like she noticed anything at the time.

"When she died, she put it in her will that she wanted Alex to have custody of me. Aunt Karina was our dad's sister, our godmother, so Jakob and Hayley went to live with her, and I had to choose. If Alex even wanted me. If I could live without my siblings."

A sardonic smile came over her lips. "In the end, it wasn't even a question. Alex didn't care that he was only ten years older than me. He went to custody court with my aunt, but the will was clear as day. I left for Los Angeles and never looked back."

She peered up at him, her blue eyes bright. "For a while, it felt like Alex was the only person in my life who cared about me. I mean, I talked to Jake occasionally, but Hayley refused. We'd hidden the truth from her, so she thought I chose being famous over my family. People who had known me before the trial were strange around me after. It took a long time to feel normal again, and without Alex it wouldn't have been possible."

A knock on the door interrupted her then. Connor stood and went to retrieve the room service for her. When he turned back, she was following his movements with her eyes. "You aren't asking about this because you're jealous of Alex now, are you?"

He paused, in the middle of setting out her food on the table, his brow furrowing. Amusement had tinged her features, but she had asked the question seriously. "No, I'm not jealous of Alex."

Taylor stood from the bed, coming to join him at the table just as he was finishing. Her hand touched against his arm. He turned his head toward her, and she was smiling. "Just checking. It's been a thing with you lately."

She was teasing him now. He could read it in the merriment laced through her tone as she sat down to eat. He supposed he deserved the prodding, after his episodes with both Kent and Markus. Taking the seat across from her, he slipped out his coin so he would have something to distract him while she ate.

"I am a little jealous." Connor admitted after a few moments. It was enough to make her pause in her chewing, her eyebrows raising. He only glanced at her before he focused on his coin, rolling it over his knuckles. "Alex is closer to you than anyone else. Would you go back to Los Angeles if it wasn't for him?"

He could see Taylor freeze in her chair, even in his peripherals, her face draining of color like it had in the stairwell. He had wondered if maybe the conversation he walked in on had been going something like this, based on her side. Perhaps he had an ally to his cause in Alex after all.

For a minute or two, Taylor sat there, staring at her plate. Then she slowly resumed eating, not bothering to answer his question. A hush surrounded them while she ate, disturbed only by the sounds of her silverware and the flip of his coin.

Finally, when she was done, she sat her fork down, looking at him across the table. "There was a year, after the trial, when I still lived in Detroit."

He caught the coin, tucking it away, giving her his full attention again. She folded her hands into her lap before she continued. "I had been there, in the same spot, the whole time it was happening, but now everyone knew. I felt like they were looking at me all the time."

She hesitated, working her bottom lip between her teeth. "I couldn't sleep in my bedroom anymore. Sometimes I would just be out somewhere, and I would swear I saw Anthony. I would smell him. He was just over my shoulder, haunting me. I had panic attacks all the time, and it didn't get better until after my mother died. Until I left Detroit.

"When I came back to Detroit to help with the case, I thought things would be different." Taylor looked down, her lips pinching into a frown. He couldn't see her hands anymore, but he imagined her fingers were wringing in her lap. "It had been fourteen years, after all."

"They weren't?" Connor tilted his head as he watched her, studying her hands, scowling at them. He could remember those early days, when he had only noticed her increasing lack of sleep. Only at times she seemed vulnerable, and through the lens of what he knew now, he could see the very intricate bravado.

"I might as well have been a kid again." She lifted her head, her frown easing. "I wasn't brave. I hadn't changed. The very delicate sense of wellbeing that I had means nothing in that city. Down every alley and around every corner that I turn, I see Anthony. I want to be the kind of person who could face what they're afraid of, but I'm not. I'm just a coward."

Her voice cracked on the last word, and she took a shaky breath. He stood and went to her, reaching to touch her. She didn't protest, didn't fight him when he pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest.

"I think you're brave." Taylor laughed softly into his shirt, disbelieving. His hands tightened and he buried his nose in her hair. "You risked your career to publicly support deviants when it wasn't a popular opinion. I watched you attend hearings over the past week with no idea what was coming, and you didn't even flinch. As terrified of Anthony Jacobsen as you are, I also saw you walk out onto a dancefloor and dance with him."

"I was a mess the whole time."

"That doesn't make it any less brave." He slid his hands down her back, closing his eyes, breathing in the soft scent of her shampoo. "I think that you sometimes focus on the negative inside your head. You can't see all of the good things that I see when I look at you."

This time she sighed. He felt the gentle puff of air against his chest. She didn't dispute him, though. After a moment, he said, "Anthony will go to jail."

"He went to jail last time," she said hopelessly. Connor supposed she had a point, and nothing he could say would erase her fear that whatever punishment Anthony landed in, he would find a way out of it.

"Do you believe good things can happen?" He said instead. That gave her pause, and she stilled in the circle of his arms.

"I want to." She eased away from him, just enough to look up into his face. "You happened. You were a very good thing."

A smile touched her face, the first real one in a while, but it was her words that made his thirium pump stutter. Her eyes dropped to his mouth and her tongue darted across her lips. "Kiss me?"

"I thought we were having a conversation," he said, smirking, but he was already leaning in.

"I'm done with that for now." Her breath was a soft sigh against his lips when she said it, he was close enough to feel it. Closing the remaining distance, he pressed his mouth over hers, tilting his head for better access. He kissed her with everything he had, every emotion he felt, hoping that somehow, he could make her see how beautiful she was to him.


	49. Shall We Dance?

**Yul Brynner and Deborah Kerr – Shall We Dance?**

"Well, it would be rude to refuse." Taylor said, trying to sound reasonable as she stared at the invitation in her hands. When she glanced up into Markus's face, however, he still looked skeptical. Behind him, North had a look of utter contempt.

A nearly identical invitation had arrived to hers and Connor's hotel room that morning. President Warren was holding her annual holiday gala and had invited the four of them to go, in lieu of what was occurring in Congress or whatever other controversy it might incur.

"We have to get back to Detroit. Sooner, rather than later." Markus grimaced, and North spoke up for him, sensing that he was hesitant.

"Josh and Simon are acting leaders, but everyone recognizes Markus. Especially newcomers. That is who they expect to see." The android fixed her with a hard stare, a frown etched into her face. "Things can destabilize quickly without his presence."

"This is only a couple of days away." Taylor tried again to sound practical, but the sneering dislike that North seemed to have for her made her jittery. "We can go back right after. President Warren is an ally to us, and right now we don't have enough of them in Washington to be ostracizing anyone."

"There is also the threat of Helping Humans to consider," Connor said from just over her shoulder, offering his support to her argument. "You came here, in part, because their androids had already infiltrated the CyberLife tower."

"There haven't been any more sightings of them since the first android we found. Josh and Simon have been subtly screening every new android that comes through." Markus looked between them, crossing his arms. His face was a mask of seriousness.

"That could just mean that they've gotten smarter, right?" Taylor said. "They have to know you're here in Washington D.C. with me. It's been all over the news."

"She's right," North admitted, looking disgusted to be agreeing with her. "They could be biding their time. We can't be too careful. Not until this whole thing with Congress is over."

"Exactly." Taylor nodded, trying to emphasize that they were on the same side. "If the bill passes, deviants will be full citizens. What Helping Humans is trying to do will be a crime, punishable by law."

The two women stared at each other for half a second, until North's frown eased off. Just a little. Taylor felt like she may have won a point or two.

"This invitation still feels like some kind of human trap." North said, looking at the thick parchment card in her hands with the same air of distaste. Taylor almost laughed, but she knew if she did, that she would lose whatever inch of ground she had just gained with the redhead.

"It isn't a trap," she said instead, suppressing her mirth. "Well, not exactly. It's politics, which is its own kind of trap I suppose. We are here as ambassadors. To not invite us would be much more noticeable than having us there causing a stir."

"Sounds like a stupid human trap to me," North confirmed, rolling her eyes. Markus was smiling now, trying to fight off his own bought of laughter.

"Diplomacy," he said congenially, touching her arm. He looked back to Taylor, nodding. "If you think we should go, then I suppose that we must. We will return to Detroit first thing next week."

The certainty with which he said it made Taylor swallow, remembering that she still hadn't made her decision. Or she had, and everyone was questioning it, so now she was questioning it, too. Going back to Detroit meant that she would need to decide, sooner rather than later.

They excused themselves, and as they headed toward the elevator to return to their own floor, Connor spoke up. "You seem worried."

"A little," she admitted. "You think Markus will be enough to keep North from punching anyone in the face?"

Connor laughed, suddenly and unexpectedly. She nearly tripped, the sound making her heart do crazy flutters in her chest. He immediately stopped, looking back at her with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, it was just..." She trailed off. With him blinking at her inquisitively, she could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, and couldn't bear to explain how cute his laugh was. "Never mind."

* * *

"Now put your hand here." Connor allowed Taylor to move his hand up her waist before she settled into his arms again. The hotel they were staying in had a ballroom, mostly out of use, and Taylor had worked her magic to somehow get them access to it for these nightly dance sessions.

"You're supposed to lead." She smiled, her teeth showing, and he blinked to dispel his errant thoughts. He really didn't need to be shown how to do anything more than once. He just liked the look of slight concentration on Taylor's face as she directed him through the steps, her body pressed against him.

"Got it." He nodded, squaring his shoulders. The soft instrumental music was playing out of Taylor's phone, and it echoed in the acoustics of the room.

"Left foot first," she said, encouraging him to move. He picked up the beat a second later and stepped forward, drawing her into the dance. "Step, step. Side, side. Perfect."

Technically, he was an advanced prototype android and he was practically cheating. But he still liked it when she praised him, even if it required very little effort on his part. They continued through the steps of the foxtrot until the song faded out and she was satisfied.

"You're too good at this, it's really unfair." He thought for one panicked second that he had been caught, but the easy smile on her face let him know that she was just teasing again.

"Teach me something more difficult." His lips quirked at the skeptical look she shot in his direction. "What dance were you dancing with Kent?"

The grimace that came to her face made him wish he could take it back. He hadn't meant it in the way it had certainly sounded, like he was punishing her somehow when they had moved past that moment. Before he could open his mouth to apologize, she answered him. "The tango."

Another brief moment of quiet. She was looking into his eyes, trying to read his face. He was deciding whether it would be better to say he was sorry or let the instant pass like it never happened. She must have read some of the struggle on his face, because her expression relaxed.

"Do you want to learn it?" He nodded, maybe too eagerly. Her face stretched into another smile, her eyes crinkling softly. Then she moved his arms again, adjusting his stance around her. "I'll lead the first time."

"Okay," he said, watching her glance down at his feet. She moved one of his feet with the tip of her toes, getting him into the right position.

"Okay, left, right, left, sidestep, now drag your other foot. Not all the way." Connor mirrored her movements, slightly awkward with her leading. She had worn heels, claiming it was easier for her to dance in them than without them at this point, so their height difference was minute. The problem was his ability to surrender his control over to her while she guided him through the steps.

"Let's try that again," she said, frowning at their feet. She turned them so they were facing the opposite direction. "Bend your knees a little. You have to bend in the tango. Try to relax."

Easier said than done. She steered him through the steps again, calling them out as she went. They did this several more times before they finally switched roles, Connor resuming the lead. By now, he had the simple steps mastered.

"This doesn't exactly look the same," he said after the third time. Taylor dissolved into giggles, resting her forehead against his shoulder.

"These are the basic steps," she said when she stopped laughing. Lifting her head, she looked into his eyes, her own blue eyes bright. "There are lots of different walks in the tango. It's going to take a while to learn them all."

"We have time," he said in return, arching his eyebrows upward.

"Fair enough." And so they began. The more rotations of steps that Taylor taught him, the easier it became to let her lead him through it, until they could almost change roles without him missing a step.

Connor wasn't sure how long they had been at it when Markus found them. He appeared in the doorway of the ballroom, watching them in silence. Taylor was concentrating and didn't notice his presence at first. She was in the lead, counting out steps, watching his footwork.

"Slow, slow, quick, quick, slow—" They turned, and she caught sight of him, finally, freezing in her tracks. The abrupt halt made him stutter a step, but he recovered immediately. He released her as she straightened. "Hi Markus."

"Markus," Connor nodded to him, straightening his tie.

"I didn't mean to interrupt," Markus began, a smile on his face that suggested he hadn't minded it at all. "I expected you a little while ago. I was concerned when you didn't show."

This was directed at Taylor. Connor checked his internal clock and realized they really had been dancing longer than he thought. On top of their daily lessons, Taylor had stayed true to her word and met with Markus every night, over the past few days, to tell him the stories.

"We lost track of time," he said, before Taylor could respond. She was still catching her breath, and he realized with a quick scan that she was exhausted. He felt suddenly guilty.

"Take your time. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay." Markus glanced over Taylor again, his eyes lingering on her wrist. She'd stopped wearing the brace, her sprain mostly healed, but the bruises were still faintly visible.

The two of them had shared words, so to speak, over the precarious situation in which Markus had unwittingly placed Taylor. Rather, Connor had expressed his displeasure and Markus had listened very patiently. At the end of it, he had not objected, had promised to do what he could to relieve the risk to Taylor and ensure her safety.

He supposed that Markus showing up now was an extension of that promise. Now, however, he could not help but feel annoyed that Markus was interrupting their time together, as drawn out as it may have been.

"It's about time we wrapped this up for the night anyways, right, Connor?" Taylor finally spoke up. She had regained her composure, her breathing even, and she was looking to him for affirmation.

"Right." He nodded again. Taylor walked over to collect her phone, cutting off the loop of music that had been playing while they danced. Then she turned back to Markus.

"I'll go back up with you?"

"Sure." Markus nodded, quickly enough, though he seemed surprised. He glanced over at Connor. "Would you like to join us?"

"No thanks." Connor had gone along one time, and it had been enough to know that he didn't really belong there. Freeing androids, being an activist, it was a very Markus and Taylor thing. He was deviant now, certainly, but he had been a deviant hunter before that. The gulf was too wide.

He wanted his people to be free, but he could not mire himself in it as the two of them had. In their company, he felt like an outsider, and so he hadn't been back. Taylor turned to him, detecting his hesitation.

"I'll see you soon." She made to walk away, but he reached for her. His hand found her waist, and he held her still while he pressed a kiss against her lips. Sudden, chaste. He released her just as quickly.

"See you later." Connor didn't know why he did it, except that he wanted to, and he knew that he could. It seemed like a good enough reason. Taylor's lips were slightly parted in surprise, her cheeks turning rosy. Markus was giving him that knowing smile that always rubbed him the wrong way.

"R-Right. Bye." She turned on her heel and started walking away, leaving Markus to follow. Connor's lips curved upward as he watched her go.


	50. Beneath Your Beautiful

**Labrinth – Beneath Your Beautiful (feat. Emile Sande)**

Taylor glanced up into the mirror as the door opened behind her, watching North enter the room. A small sigh of relief escaped her, but it was short lived after North met her gaze in the mirror a second later, frowning.

"Hey," she said feebly, turning in her chair to greet the android face to face. North was glancing around the room, looking a little uncertain now, though the frown was still in place. "Thanks for coming."

"Oh, was this optional?" She said it with a touch of sarcasm, but Taylor managed not to wince. The redhead finally turned back to face her, eyeing the dress she was already wearing, her frown deepening.

"I had Jen and Anton leave a few for you to choose from. I'll help you get into it. I figured you would prefer it that way." She bit her lip then, realizing the last bit probably didn't need to be said. North didn't react, though. Her eyes had moved to the dresses, lined up on the other side of the room.

Without any further ado, she walked over to them, observing each one, circling. Taylor watched, still apprehensive, chewing on her lip. She had suggested to Markus that she could help North get ready for the party tonight in some vague hope that maybe they would bond. Their somewhat friendly interaction a few days prior had encouraged her into thinking it could be possible. Now, though.

"These are all ridiculous." North finally said, shaking her head.

"I could get them to bring a different one—" Taylor began, but the redhead just made a disgusted noise, sighing.

"Another equally ridiculous one, I'm sure. This one will do." She gestured to the black dress on the end, the one she had been hovering closest to since she started looking. It was the one Taylor would have chosen for her, if she would have been bold enough to impose. A midnight, strapless ballgown with intricate feathered beading along the body that caught the light.

"My stylist, Jen, always says that if people are going to be looking at you, you may as well give them something to look at." A smile came to her face, and to her surprise, North smiled slightly in return. "Come on, half the work is just getting into the dress."

Certainly not a lie. A lot of cursing, tucking, and strapping later, North was finally properly clothed and even less happy about it than before. "Why in the hell would you do this to yourself all the time?"

"There are worse things," Taylor shrugged, still slightly breathless. At the skeptical look that North sent her way, she shrugged, "Probably worse things."

"Are we done now?" She sounded hopeful. Taylor frowned, looking over her slightly frazzled hair. Then she pointed toward the chair she'd been sitting in when North walked in.

"Not quite." North groaned, but she filed over and dropped into the chair as requested. Taylor stepped up behind her, reaching for the hairbrush. They sat in silence while Taylor brushed her hair, then sat to work and putting it up. North watched her hands moving in the mirror, her face now blank.

"Can I ask you a question?" The question came so suddenly that it made Taylor freeze for a second. Then she tried to play off her hesitation, not wanting North to change her mind.

"Sure," she said, attempting to sound casual. North went quiet, considering her again. She watched her for a long time before she spoke.

"Does it ever go away?" Taylor opened her mouth to ask her what she meant, but when she met North's brown eyes in the mirror again, she didn't have to. The haunted look behind them was all too familiar. Instead, she contemplated the question while she pinned the last errant strands into the simple updo she had fashioned.

"It doesn't," she said finally. Her fingers were still sticking pins into North's red hair. "It doesn't go away. You just get distance, and distance makes it easier."

Taylor stepped around and took the seat next to her, reaching for the makeup laying across the vanity. North made an indignant noise. "I don't want any of that."

"I won't use a lot. Just trust me." The redhead frowned again, but she withheld protest when Taylor leaned forward to bring the first brush to her face. The blonde worked in silence, still not quite comfortable enough for casual conversation. There was more she wanted to say, anyway.

"Somedays, it's easy to forget. You feel normal." She bid North to close her eyes, carefully painting color along her lash line as she talked. "Out of nowhere, in the middle of a conversation, walking down the street, it's like a hand reaching from behind you. Wrapping around your throat. Choking you."

North fluttered her eyes as she painted on mascara, trying to watch her and follow her instruction at the same time with little success. Taylor was scarcely aware of it, her mind drifting elsewhere as she spoke.

"Fourteen years and hundreds of miles couldn't make that go away." Taylor paused, meeting North's eyes briefly before she reached for a tube of lipstick. "But it didn't stop me from living. Even when it was hard." North sat very still as she applied the lipstick, and when she finished, Taylor smiled. "It helps if you have someone there who helps you through the bad days."

North averted her gaze then, looking a bit sheepish. Taylor wondered if the idea of romance was so foreign to her that she didn't want to talk about it, or if maybe she was just shy. When she thought of North and Markus, she may not have considered it at first, but it fit in some perfect way. They complemented each other.

They stood, and North took in the full view of herself in the mirror, her brown eyes narrowed. After a moment, she said, without even a hint of sarcasm, "Thank you."

The two words threw Taylor for a loop. She wasn't entirely sure if the thanks were for the makeover, or for the answer to the question, but she didn't care. "You're very welcome. Shall we?"

* * *

Connor was idly flipping his coin between his hands, rolling it over his knuckles, waiting, He was getting quite used to this part of the evening, though it was Markus's first time. The other android was watching his coin tricks in mute fascination. Neither of them had bothered to speak in quite a while.

Taylor had informed him of her plan to try and establish some type of relationship with North by helping her get ready for the party tonight. He figured he was probably both the wrong person to understand the mechanics and logic of such a maneuver, but they had all gone along with it.

Frankly, Connor didn't see the point. As far as he had seen, North didn't like anyone aside from Markus. Everyone else fell into categories of loathe or tolerate. Taylor had been on the fence between those two zones, but she was not content with that. She wanted to be friends.

Which left him here, with Markus, waiting. If he considered whether Markus had different zones for people, the deviant leader probably placed almost everyone into the friend category. He probably considered Connor a friend.

Connor wasn't sure he felt the same. They were allies, perhaps. Close acquaintances. Yet when you added the dynamic of Taylor to the equation, his feelings got too messy. He felt what he thought might be resentment whenever he thought of Markus asking Taylor to be their ambassador. The damage it had caused.

Taylor had not so subtly reminded him that he had helped convince her to accept the job. If he was being honest with himself, though, how much of that had he agreed to do simply because he wanted Taylor to stay close to him? He had been selfish.

Humans were selfish. Humans made mistakes. The machine version of himself would have done better, would have sent Taylor home. To safety. But even knowing that now, he was still trying to find every excuse for her to stay.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Connor didn't stop rolling the coin over his knuckles when Markus's voice finally cut through the hush around them, just flicked his eyes up. He elaborated, "You look like you're thinking on something pretty hard. You've got this look on your face."

"What look?" Connor kept his voice neutral. Apparently in his deviancy he couldn't even control his facial expressions anymore.

"I don't know how to describe it. Humans sometimes say, 'like your dog just died.'"

"I don't like that saying." Connor frowned, and Markus laughed quietly in return.

"It's just a phrase. Humans have a lot of strange idioms." Markus shrugged. "That one does seem especially fitting to the look you're making, though. Does it have to do with Taylor?"

"It's none of your concern," Connor bit off, trying to keep his annoyance in check. If Markus could sense it, he didn't comment this time.

"Fair enough." Markus crossed his arms, leaning back against the pillar beside him as they continued to wait, but his two-toned eyes still didn't move away. After another beat of quiet, he said, "You know, I just hope that you realize that I never meant for any of this to happen this way."

Connor caught his coin between his two fingers, tucking it away. He looked up at Markus, still frowning. The other android had finally looked away, though, his own expression morphing into a thoughtful frown.

"I'm sure that sounds like empty sentiment to you." Markus raised his eyes, made eye contact with him again. "But I didn't think it would be anything like this went I sent Taylor here. I didn't know there would be hearings, a huge spectacle, any of this. Even if I had, Taylor still would have handled it better than I ever could have."

"That doesn't make it any better," Connor said through gritted teeth. He couldn't help it that time.

"No, I know that." Markus conceded the point immediately, inclining his head. "But I also didn't understand, in the beginning, what Taylor was going through. I didn't know anything about Anthony Jacobsen. Because she only shows you as much as she wants you to see."

The expression on his face relaxed, just a bit, because he knew how true those words were. Markus must have thought he was making headway, because he kept going.

"If I'm being honest, Connor, I don't even know how I got into this position. Leader of an android revolution." He grimaced, looking away. "When Taylor told me about California, and Raj, to me it seemed like she knew exactly what she was doing, and I had no idea. Just know that I don't always tell her how amazing I think she is to flatter her. I believe it."

Connor paused, trying to imagine the whole thing from Markus's point of view. With everything that he knew about Taylor, he believed that what Markus said was entirely possible. Taylor would never have brought up her personal issues or expressed any doubt about the things Markus asked her to do.

She had somehow continued the investigation for CyberLife, continued helping Raj, and helped Markus infiltrate Stratford Tower at the same time. If he added in what she had told him just a few nights ago, she had also been also dealing with her overwhelming anxiety at just being back in Detroit, in the vicinity of her stepfather.

"Taylor is leaving." He heard himself say. Markus raised his eyebrows in surprise at the sudden outburst. "When this is over, she plans on going back to Los Angeles."

"I see." Markus said gently, his expression smoothing over once more. He was quiet, considering the idea, before he said, "And what is that you want, Connor?"

"I want..." Connor stopped, hesitating. Did he want Taylor to stay? To go home to L.A., to Alex? To be happy? Did he just want to be a machine again, with a mission, where things were simple, black and white? "I want her to be safe."

"Is she really safer in Los Angeles?" Markus asked next, arching his eyebrows. "Who is going to protect her there? What does she need to be protected from?"

Silence, again. Connor considered the questions and Markus left him to his thoughts. Until Taylor texted him to let him know that her and North were on the way down. He didn't stand until he heard the distant sound of the elevator pinging, the echo of heels on marble.

North was in the lead, so it was a moment before he caught full view of Taylor. She was watching the interaction between Markus and North with what he felt was an unreadable smile on her face, looking quite satisfied. Tonight, she had worn a deep turquoise dress with glittering scales covering most of it, a slit from her left leg almost all the way to her hip.

He couldn't contain himself from walking to her, sliding his arms around her waist, and pulling her against him. He could hear the small gasp of surprise she gave in response, but she didn't resist. He supposed it was just an after effect of the conversation he'd just had with Markus, but he pressed his face into the crook of her neck, breathing her in.

"I love you," he said against her skin, because he couldn't think of anything else to say to explain his behavior. Slowly, her arms came up to circle him. She held on for a moment, before she gently untangled herself from his hold.

"I love you, too," she said softly, her face lined with concern as she peered up at him. Her hands were resting on his forearms now, but he still had both hands on her waist. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he said, trying to reassure her. She didn't appear convinced, her brow still creased with worry. "You look amazing."

"Thank you." She smiled then, and he released her, offering her his arm. When she took it, he turned back to find that Markus and North hadn't even noticed their little exchange, caught up in their own hushed conversation. "The car should be waiting outside for us."

They did turn at that. Markus's face still had a light blue tint to it, but he composed himself quickly. He took North's arm and they filed out. As Taylor had said, there was a limousine idling on the curb, waiting for them. Frank was leaned up against it.

"Hi Frank," The blonde gave him a smile as they approached, and the two of them stepped to the side so that Markus and North could get into the car first. "Are you always stuck on chauffeur duty or are you in trouble for something?"

"Just lucky I guess," Frank answered with a shrug. "Speaking of, I hear I'm taking you back to Detroit on Monday."

"Looks that way." The smile didn't fade from her face, though her eyes flickered down uncertainly. Just for a moment. "Why, are you looking for a permanent job? I pay really well."

"Nah, I can't deal with all those Hollywood types," Frank laughed, then gave her a cheeky smile. "No offense."

"None taken," Taylor said, laughing as well. "Though I don't know how these political types are any better."

"Touché. Now get in the car before you freeze to death." It was true, goosebumps had risen along her arms and she had shivered more than once during the brief conversation. Connor handed her into the still open limousine door and climbed in behind her. Frank shut it afterward and headed for the driver's seat.

Inside the car, Taylor scooted against his side as soon as he had settled into the seat. He thought it was because she was cold, but when the car started to roll, she leaned her head closer to him and said, "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes," he said, placing his hand over hers and squeezing her fingers. This seemed to satisfy her, for she settled back into the seat and dug her phone out of her clutch with her free hand, opening it to text.

The rest of the ride was spent in relative silence. Taylor only spent a few minutes on her phone before she tucked it away again, turning her attention to the passing scenery instead. As they pulled into the line of cars waiting to let people off, however, Markus broke the tranquility.

"Anything we should know for our first party?" He was addressing Taylor, and she blinked back at him, startled. Then she pursed her lips, looking thoughtful.

"There's no telling what anyone might say to you. I'm sure someone is going to be rude before the night is over. Probably Speaker Berkley. Just try to ignore them." She smiled slightly. "Try to have fun. It is a party, after all."

"Do we have to stay for the whole thing?" North asked petulantly. The expression on her face suggested that ignoring someone's rude comments was shaping up to be the bane of her existence.

"No," Taylor conceded, shaking her head. "At least an hour. Two would be better. People will notice if we leave too early." She sighed. "People are going to notice everything we do, honestly."

"No pressure. Got it." Markus smiled at her, and she returned it.

"It won't be that bad. Probably." The car rolled to a stop on the curb and everyone piled out of the limousine. As they made their way toward the entrance, Taylor slid her arm through his again. "Hey, so, you know Kent is probably going to be here. It's his mom's party, after all."

"Okay." Connor said, unsure of what response she was looking for. She gave him a sideways glance as they walked.

"I know he can be an asshole. If he says anything that makes you want to punch him in the face, just remember we're in the White House and the Secret Service is present." Her lips were curled into the slightest of smiles, but he could detect that she was serious.

"Got it," he smirked at her, and her smile widened. He felt his expression shifting to apprehension as they approached the doors up ahead. He glanced down at their entwined arms and back up to her face. "Am I permitted to touch you this evening?"

"What?" Her tone came out sharp, and she turned her head to look at him fully. Her eyebrows were drawn together. Then it seemed to come to her, and her face smoothed over. "You remember the hearing, when you held my hand?"

"Yes."

"It turns out, the internet went crazy for it. There were enough photographs of us together, even from back in Detroit, but now everyone is convinced we're secretly together." She was grinning as she reached her other hand over, tucking it into his elbow. "So yes, you may touch me as much as you please. Though you know I wouldn't have cared, even if that wasn't the case."

"I don't want to make things more difficult for you," Connor said softly as they finally stepped across the threshold. Markus and North were still just ahead of them, and he could hear the dull hum of conversation ahead. People were already turning to look at them. Curious.

"I'm not sure that's possible," Taylor said in response, still grinning. "It's all downhill from here. Now let's show Markus and North how to pretend to have a good time at a party."


	51. Always Remember Us This Way

**Lady Gaga – Always Remember Us This Way**

Taylor laid very still, trying not to move. If she moved too much, Connor would instantly come out of his sleep mode, and that's what she was trying to avoid. From her current position, she could tilt her head just right to look up at his serene expression.

She had been awake for at least an hour now. Maybe longer, it was hard to know for sure when all you had to do was think. Or overthink, in her case. During the past two weeks, however, she had learned that if she woke up too early and got out of bed, Connor would get up too and he would be worried.

Plus, she didn't mind it here, in his arms. Even with nothing else to do. From the first time that they had been intimate until even now, Connor had to adjust to the idea that he could touch her. He still hesitated, like she would crumble to pieces to his hands if he held on too tight. So much so that she had given him express permission to touch her whenever and however he wanted to when it was just the two of them.

Still, he always asked permission first. Something about it made her want to cry every time, just because it was overwhelming how gentle he was. Slowly he had become bolder, with every embrace, every contact. He could never be satisfied. She could only guess that his desire outweighed his reluctance.

This is how he preferred to be. With her curled against him, as much skin touching skin as possible. One arm was curled under her back, hand tucked around her hip, and the other was folded around her middle, bent upward, fingers splayed across her shoulder blade.

If Connor had been human, he never could have slept like that. He would be insanely uncomfortable, and he would have lost feeling in his arm ages ago. But he was an android, and all he could feel was the warmth of her skin touching his. Sure, she wasn't as comfortable as she could have been, but that didn't matter to her.

Here, in the circle of his arms, pressed as close as she could get, she felt safe. Truly safe. The more she thought about it, the more she was sure that she could have been anywhere in the world, and as long as Connor was there with her, she would be okay. She might even last the night in her old bedroom, wrapped up just like this.

Maybe that was as delusional as it sounded. Their time was running out, after all. Soon they would be back in Detroit, and then?

Taylor shifted so that she could see Connor's face again. The sharp lines of his jaw. The soft curve of his mouth. The thick black of his lashes, almost touching his cheeks. Her fingers were itching to reach up and trace along his brow, the perfect contours of his face.

His eyes opened suddenly. Since he wasn't human, they didn't flutter, didn't blink awake, just opened. It startled her for just a moment. His eyes were like smoked hickory in the dim light, the flickering glow of the television casting shadows over the hollows in his face and catching the glints of gold in his pupils.

"Good morning," Connor smiled, just slightly, the corners of his lips lifting just enough to make his eyes squint. His hand moved from her shoulder, sliding along her spine and coming to rest against her side, making her shiver.

"Morning," she breathed, sighing softly as he leaned in to brush his lips against her temple.

"Have you been awake long?" He asked. She made a noncommittal noise of acknowledgment, keeping her eyes closed as his lips moved to her cheek, down to her jaw, trailing along her skin. "You still have time to sleep."

She opened her eyes then. He had pulled away now, and she could tell by the way his eyes moved over her face that he was running a scan. "If you tell me I look tired, I'm going to hit you."

"Androids don't feel pain," he reminded her, huffing a small laugh as he said it. She was already smiling, though underneath it she was a bit apprehensive. She'd been worried about Connor since they arrived in Washington, in varying degrees, but she hadn't been able to focus on it with the hearings and everything else happening.

The way he'd greeted her before they headed to the party threw it back into stark contrast. She wanted to pretend that it wasn't her fault, but no part of her believed that to be true.

"Do you want me to get you breakfast while you get ready?"

"I don't want to get ready yet." Taylor wiggled her hands free from where they were trapped between them, finally reaching up to cup his face with her hands like she'd been itching to do moments before, "I thought you said I had time?"

"You do," he said, going still beneath her touch. She brushed the pads of her thumbs along his cheeks, her smile widening.

"Let's do something else." Pulling him down to her, she pressed her mouth over his before he could say anything in response. Her leg pressed against his thigh, then slid over and curled around his hip, but he didn't need any more encouragement. The hand on her side slid along her back again, pulling the thin fabric of her tank top up with it.

In one movement, he rolled her onto her back, hovering over her. He broke the kiss long enough to pull the shirt over her head. She was lost in the moment, drowning in him, and she didn't even notice when he got the rest of her clothes off. His hands were everywhere at once, gliding along her skin, his fingers grazing every sensitive spot.

"Connor, please," she broke away, gasping for air. He was driving her insane. The desire was burning through her, curled into the pit of her stomach, fire in her veins. He must have known. His thumbs pressed into the bones of her hips and a second later she felt the full length of him slamming into her.

A groan, both pleasure and pain, tore from her lips. She'd gotten used to the size of him, mostly, but the suddenness had startled her. He had been just as impatient as she was, but he stilled now, placing gentle kisses along her neck and jaw. She clenched around him, and a second later he started to move.

With every thrust, he filled her completely, driving into every pleasure center she had. She couldn't feel anything but the pure sensation of it. There was sweat breaking out across her skin already, tension building in her abdomen. She was moaning, panting Connor's name, her fingers digging into his back.

Then she came, tightening around him again. He moaned against her neck but kept thrusting, his thumbs still digging into her hips, until she felt him release a minute later, his cock twitching inside of her.

Connor still had his face buried against her neck. Taylor realized her fingernails were clenched into the taut synthetic muscles around his shoulders and she relaxed them. She was panting, but so was he, his fans working audibly to cool him.

He lifted his head, finally, just enough to press his lips to hers again. He kissed her until she was breathless before breaking away. His grip on her hips was gentle now, and he pulled out of her.

"Go get ready. I'll get you breakfast," he said again, though he didn't move at first. He stayed hovering over her, looking down at her with so much adoration it made her chest ache.

In that moment, she just knew. How could she leave him? More importantly, how could she give him up? She would have to stay in Detroit. Alex had already suspected this would happen. She would have to talk to Jake about it. Who knows, maybe she could even try to have a relationship with Hayley again.

"What is it?" Connor interrupted her thoughts before she could get too carried away. He was giving her that look of concern, his brow furrowed. She hesitated. She couldn't tell him yet, not without at least talking to Alex.

"I can't get ready with you like this," she said instead, pushing lightly against his chest, smiling. He blinked, then finally moved from above her. She made her way to the bathroom quickly, trying not to feel self-conscious about her lack of clothing. He'd seen everything there was to see already, but somehow, she knew his eyes were lingering as she shut the bathroom door behind her.


	52. No One Is Alone

**Into the Woods – No One Is Alone**

"I'm not entirely sure I understand the point of this," Taylor repeated, her face scrunched up into a perplexed frown. Connor glanced between her and Markus, the latter appearing the portrait of unruffled calm.

"Josh contacted us this morning and said that the tower may not be secure," North intervened, ever the straightforward one. Markus frowned at her, but she kept going, ignoring him. "They're running interference, but it's not safe for Markus to return right now."

"So don't go back to the tower. There are plenty of other places to stay in Detroit." The frown hadn't shifted from her face as Taylor turned her attention to the redhead instead. "Didn't Raj set up other safehouses while he was there?"

"The safest option is to remain here. It will only be for a day or two. President Warren has already agreed to it." Markus cut in, trying to sound reasonable. "Since the hearings began, much of the human population has started to return to Detroit, as well. That limits our options and our movement."

"We can all stay, then." Taylor said next, looking between the two of them. Softly, she added, "I don't like the idea of the two of you staying here alone. Even if it's just for a day."

"Everything is going to be fine, Taylor." Markus stepped forward, placing his hands on her shoulders as he said it. "Try not to worry."

"I can go to CyberLife when we arrive in Detroit," Connor said, trying to sound conciliatory. "I will assist Josh and Simon in making sure the tower is secure. You can return tomorrow."

Markus and Taylor both turned, the former appearing grateful, the latter slightly horrified. She opened her mouth, seemed to reconsider, and closed it again, settling into a concerned frown instead. He had thought to set her mind at ease but had somehow done the opposite instead.

"Thank you, Connor." Markus said, nodding to him. "You see? There is nothing to worry about."

Taylor shifted her blue eyes back to him, looking like she had everything to worry about. She didn't say anything, though. She must have thought it would be futile to argue anymore. Instead, she said, "We're going to be late."

"I'll see you soon," Markus squeezed his hands on her shoulders before he released her, stepping away. She just nodded in return.

Connor led her out of the hotel, taking her hand. Frank was indeed already waiting for them by the curb, the car idling, their bags already loaded into it. He didn't seem surprised that it was just the two of them, so he must have already known about Markus's arrangements.

The protesters were still outside of the hotel as well, and when the two of them appeared, they all started shouting. Connor pulled Taylor closer to his side and hurried her toward the car. Frank met them halfway and escorted them the rest of it, shoving both of them into the backseat and closing the door.

Connor still had a grip on Taylor's hand, and he squeezed it to draw her attention back to him. Frank slid into the driver's seat and pulled the car into traffic a moment later. Connor still had his eyes locked on hers, the slight puckering of her lips into a frown, the lines in between her eyebrows where she had drawn them together.

"Are you upset?" He said finally, when she just kept staring at him, her hand still in his. Her lips quirked, almost into a smile, before her features all smoothed over. She turned back to the window.

"No. Worried." Her head rested against the seatback and she watched the scenery as it passed, stared up at the buildings as they waited at the traffic lights. "This doesn't feel right."

"You gave in rather easily." He said, surprised. Maybe a little disbelieving. He didn't expect she had given up without a fight. She was usually much more stubborn when she thought she was right.

"He's made up his mind." Taylor shrugged lightly. Her expression didn't change. "He isn't going to listen to me."

"He listens to you more than you think," Connor said, insistent. Taylor frowned again, but this time she didn't respond. She stayed quiet all the way to the airport, but she kept her hand in his. Frank escorted them to the plane, another private flight courtesy of the White House.

"I thought you weren't interested in joining the payroll," Taylor said, giving him a surprised look when he followed them onboard.

"I'm to make sure you arrive in Detroit safe and sound. Boss's orders." Frank gave her an easy smile in return and motioned her toward her seat.

"What about David?" The blonde sat as instructed and fastened her seatbelt. Connor took the seat behind her, just as he had on their previous flight, while Frank also sat in his previous spot across the aisle.

"He's still at the hotel. Markus duty." At the surprised look that Taylor must have given him, Frank laughed. "What, you expect Secretary Headley is going to leave him unguarded? The hotel has had someone watching it since the two of you arrived."

"I see." Connor couldn't see her face anymore, but if her tone was any indication, Taylor was not amused by this new revelation.

"Oh, don't be offended. Could you really expect anything less?" He could still see Frank from his seat, and the agent gave the blonde woman another unaffected smile as he buckled his seatbelt.

"No, I guess not," she sighed. Frank looked over his shoulder at him.

"Your seatbelt, too." Connor glanced down, then buckled his seatbelt as instructed. A few minutes later, the plane was rolling down the runway, preparing to take off.

"If you were at the hotel the whole time, why did Taylor get injured by a protestor just outside of it?" Connor asked after they were in the air, the turbulence past. He was concerned with himself that he had not noticed any of them in the two weeks they'd been staying in the hotel, but he couldn't hold back from asking the question.

"Well, no one expected her to return so early that night." Frank looked over his shoulder at him again, frowning now. "Without you." A note of a challenge in that. "But my man did intervene and take her up to her room."

The bellhop. Connor frowned now, but he didn't say anything else. Of course they would have been disguised as the hotel staff. The whole thing had been arranged by Secretary Headley, after all.

"Thanks for everything you've done, Frank." Taylor said from the seat in front of him. Frank shifted his gaze back to her, his eyebrows raising.

"No problem. Just doing my job." He looked at her for a few seconds more, before finally settling into his seat and turning away. Connor wished he could see her face, too. She'd been acting slightly off since this morning. He had the inclination that she hadn't gotten much sleep, but something else seemed to be bothering her as well, even before they had talked to Markus in the lobby.

He would have to ask her about it when they got back to Detroit.

Taylor hovered beside Connor, waiting for the okay to leave. She'd spent a little time saying her final goodbyes to Frank, while he prepared for his return flight to Washington. To resume his real job, no doubt, and stop driving her all around the city, reduced to a professional chaperone.

She'd given him a parting hug and watched him turn an impressive shade of red, much to her surprise. She was still trying to puzzle that out when a member of airport security approached them, telling them they could cross the tarmac.

People had gathered, much like their arrival in Washington D.C. a couple weeks back. As she got closer, Connor right beside her, they started to shout her name. This crowd clearly knew who it was they were waiting on. Connor immediately tensed, but she squeezed his hand.

"They're just fans." She tried to reassure him, but he was still scanning the crowd with a frown on his face. Her eyes caught sight of a small girl near the front. She had a _Chloe_ poster in her hand, waving it frantically back and forth.

Taylor pulled to a stop, then started walking towards the child. A second later, security was walking in front of her again, and she could feel Connor hot on her heels. The security that had been waiting by the terminal doors to receive them headed over as well, everyone looking quite perplexed.

The crowd grew more excited as she got closer, but she knelt down next to the little girl, not paying them any attention. "Hi, what's your name?"

The little girl's mouth dropped open into a perfect 'o'. She had stopped waving her poster, going completely still, but when Taylor addressed her, she looked at the woman behind her uncertainly. Her mother, who nodded, smiling.

"Anna," the girl said, her voice full of nerves.

"How old are you, Anna?" Anna didn't respond this time, just held up five stubby fingers as an answer. Taylor held her hand out, reaching for the poster, and Anna shoved it forward enthusiastically. Her mother offered the marker.

"Would you like a picture?" Taylor asked as she scribbled on the poster. Anna nodded fervently, so Taylor handed the poster and marker back to her mother before beckoning the child forward. She pulled Anna to her side, and her mother snapped the picture.

"Thank you!" Anna waved happily as her mother pulled her back into the crowd. Taylor waved back, smiling. She could tell the security wanted her to move on, but she didn't. She turned to the next person in the crowd.

More people wanted photos than autographs. She knew they would probably be all over Instagram later. As she made it through the crowd, the people started to disperse somewhat. Connor drifted back from anxiously hovering to standing a few feet behind her, content to let her work.

There were only a few people left now, and Taylor knew she would have to leave soon either way. She turned to the next man in the crowd, a smile still plastered on her face. He was smiling back at her, though somehow the expression appeared contrived, not quite reaching his eyes. He offered his hand for her to shake and she took it, wondering what it was about his appearance that was so off-putting.

They were standing rather close already, but he tugged her forward suddenly, and she stumbled into him. A gasp escaped her, and she realized all at once what had bothered her about his looks. His face was perfectly symmetrical. Flawless. Android.

"Power to the people," he said against her ear. She felt the knife go in, but she didn't feel the pain until he pulled it back out, stepping away. He stole the air from her lungs with it, the pain becoming a supernova. The whole thing happened in a span of seconds. No one around them even noticed as he stepped back and merged into the crowd again.

"C-Connor," she managed, her hand coming up to her chest. She could feel the warmth of the blood already seeping through her clothes. Someone screamed as she stumbled backward, her legs giving way.

Connor's arms were already around her, though, catching her as she fell. He lowered her to the ground gently, then pressed his hand against her chest, where she knew the blood must be gushing out. His eyes were wide and frightened, his LED flickering between yellow and red.

"I've called an ambulance," he managed to say. He pressed harder still into her chest and she gasped, the spear of pain nearly making her convulse. "Just hold on. You're going to be okay."

She didn't know which one of them he was trying to convince. With all the strength she had, she moved her hand over his, sticky, coated in blood. Everything was cold, and the edges of her vision were starting to go dark.

She kept her eyes directly on him, though, so she could still see his face. She tried to speak, tried to tell him not to worry, but her breaths were just wet, ragged gasps now. Vaguely she thought he was still talking, still telling her it was going to be okay. She fought to keep her eyes open.

"Taylor, hold on." His voice broke through the haze again. She wished she could say something, anything. The panicked thoughts crowded through her head. _I love you. I was going to stay. I'm sorry._

_I'm sorry._


	53. I'll Cover You

**RENT – I'll Cover You (Reprise)**

Her ribs fractured instantly.

Connor felt them, beneath his hands, snapping like twigs when he started chest compressions. Delicate. Fragile. He had felt it when her heart slowed to a stop. Her fingers going slack over his hand.

Blood was still pouring out over his hands every time he pushed downward on her chest. Splattering over his arms, bright red, arterial and angry. So much blood.

The faint sound of sirens reached his ears. Distantly, he knew there were still people around him. The airport security had never left, though he thought a couple of them might have gone in pursuit of whoever had stabbed her. Some of them were surely still just civilians, her fans, looking on in horror.

No, he was barely conscious of anything except for her, pale and lifeless beneath him. Dead. He kept compressing at a perfect one hundred beats per minute, waiting for the ambulance to arrive.

"Sir, please step away," Connor must have blanked out longer than he thought, because when he looked up, he saw the flashing lights. An EMT was addressing him, knelt down across from the scene.

"I'm not stopping," he said through gritted teeth. Something in his voice must have frightened the man, because he flinched and held up his hands.

"You're doing a great job, but I have to get her onto the stretcher," he explained diplomatically. Connor glanced behind him to see that they had already wheeled the stretcher over from the back of the ambulance. One of the airport security personnel was explaining to the other EMT what had happened.

Connor paused his compressions and scooped Taylor up into his arms in one swift movement. The EMT in front of him cursed and stumbled out of the way as he deposited her onto the stretcher and strapped her in. Then he climbed on top of her, his knees on either side of her torso, and resumed CPR.

Both EMTs stared at him in shock for a beat before they started to move, loading the stretcher into the back of the ambulance with him still on top of it. One of them was speaking into their radio, "Dispatch I have a trauma alert inbound, ETA 10 minutes."

The back door of the ambulance slammed shut, leaving him alone with Taylor and the first EMT. A few seconds later, the sirens resumed their wailing and the ambulance pulled away. The EMT wasn't paying him any mind now, focusing instead on his patient, moving around him to connect her to the monitor.

"Can you stop for just a second? I have to do a pulse check." He sounded hesitant, even now.

"I'm not stopping," Connor repeated, his LED flashing red. "She has no pulse aside from the one I am giving her. Currently asystole."

The EMT looked at him dubiously, then finally seemed to notice the LED flashing on his temple. He frowned. "Alright, fair enough. Keep going."

Instead, he busied himself trying to put in a working intravenous line so that he could start pushing medications. They both leaned as the ambulance took several sharp turns, the supplies in the cabinets rattling.

"Still asystole?" He asked once he was securing the line with tape. Connor just nodded, bracing himself as the ambulance careened around another corner. "Pushing epinephrine."

He pulled out a small cardboard box and opened it, dropping two halves of a syringe into his hand. He screwed them together and pushed the medication, flushing it with saline. After a couple seconds, he asked, "Anything?"

"Still no pulse." The ambulance was rolling to a stop now. The door opened and the stretcher was being rolled out onto the concrete. There were people there, waiting to receive them, joining them as they wheeled in through the automatic doors to the emergency room.

"Trauma bay one," one of them said, nodding down the hallway. Then she looked right at him and said, "You have to get off. You can't go into the bay."

Before he could protest, before he could tell her the same thing that he'd told the EMT, he felt the man tugging on his sleeve. "Do what she says, pal. You'll only be in their way in there. They're going to help her."

Still, he hesitated, his arms still pumping up and down at a perfect one hundred beats per minute. He was an android, after all, and didn't get tired. They had paused outside the trauma bay doors, and everyone had turned to stare at him.

Connor climbed down from the stretcher because he knew that he was slowing the whole process down. He knew that his chest compressions were not fixing Taylor, that she needed surgery and blood and whatever else they would do behind those doors. As soon as his feet touched the floor, they wheeled the stretcher onward.

He watched the doors swing closed, conflicted. Suddenly empty. Encompassed by a crushing silence. Until he felt a hand touch his arm. The EMT, still hanging around. Connor's eyes flicked down over his nametag: Tom.

"I'll show you to the waiting room," Tom gave him another uneasy once over. Connor could only imagine what he looked like. "You might want to get cleaned up, first."

"No." He had meant to soften his tone, to be friendly, but he snapped out the response anyway. Tom flinched, and he lowered his voice when he said, "No. Just show me where to wait."

Tom did, leading him back through the emergency department, past a nurse's station and medical personnel and into a waiting room. There were people out here too, waiting to be seen. They turned when the door opened to see if their name would be called, and the room went oddly quiet at the sight of him, covered in blood, his LED still circling between red and yellow.

Connor retreated to a fairly empty corner, away from the humans, away from everything. He settled into a chair, found that Tom was still following him, a vague look of concern on his face. "You need me to call someone for you?"

Connor knew he should call someone. Alex. Jake. Markus, even. Someone who could think of what to do. He was getting error messages across his display about his stress levels and was trying to calm himself, though. He couldn't focus on more than one thing at a time.

"No thank you, Tom." He managed to say with a somewhat even keel. "I appreciate all of your help."

Tom paused for another breath, looking like he wanted to say something else. Then he simply shook his head, "Good luck."

* * *

Approximately seventeen minutes later, the news story broke on the television in the waiting room. It interrupted the gameshow that had been airing, contestants guessing the prices of random items and trying to win prizes. Connor had been watching it as an attempt to distract his processors from replaying Taylor's death in his memory, trying to manage his stress levels.

His LED had been a solid amber for a good ten minutes, but when Taylor's face replaced the spinning wheel so suddenly on the TV, it blinked red again. The photograph zoomed away to the corner of the screen, and the news anchor began to speak.

Connor didn't listen to the report. He knew everything there was to know. An android had stabbed Taylor, right in front of him. He'd let it happen and then done nothing to save her. He only hoped that somewhere deeper in the hospital, someone else was having more luck.

It was a whole five minutes after the story broke that Alex called him. Connor calculated that he must have tried to call Taylor first, probably more than once, before he dialed Connor instead. He wasn't sure if Taylor's phone was tucked away in one of the bags that they had left in the car at the airport, or in one of her pockets, surely cut away and lying abandoned on the floor of the trauma bay.

"Hello?" Connor answered. He knew that he must. He had to tell Alex what had happened. He glanced down at the blood on his clothes, drying on his hands.

"Connor." Alex sounded relieved that he had answered. Perhaps he thought that if Connor could answer the phone so calmly, nothing could be wrong. He really didn't understand androids very well. "What the hell is going on out there?"

Connor glanced up at the headline on the television. Reports of Taylor being stabbed at the airport and rushed to the hospital. Police on scene. "The story is true."

"Fuck." Alex breathed out the curse. He heard a brief rusting on the line. "What happened? Is she alright? Why didn't you call me?"

"She was stabbed by an android," Connor said. "I think it may have been a Helping Humans android. I accompanied her to the hospital. I believe she is in surgery, but no one has come out to speak to me."

He found that he couldn't tell Alex the whole truth. Not like this, on the phone, miles away. "I'm sorry I didn't call."

He also couldn't explain that he'd been spending every second since Taylor disappeared behind those doors trying to keep himself from self-destructing. He didn't have time to go into detail on android stress levels and his current state of mind.

"Was she conscious when you got to the hospital?" Alex asked hesitantly. It was like he could tell there was more that Connor wasn't saying. Connor shouldn't have been surprised. The man was an expert at reading Taylor's subtle lies.

"She was not conscious," Connor said evenly, hoping Alex didn't push him any further. The line was silent for a minute, and Connor was watching the news anchor speak on the news, saying that they had no information on the suspect at this time.

"I'll be there soon. By tonight, if I have to steal some asshole's private jet. Call or text me immediately if anyone gives you an update."

"Got it," Connor looked down at the blood covering his hands again. "Alex, will you call Jake? I can't right now."

"Sure, of course," Alex was already moving, probably throwing his things together, packing. But he paused as he said, "Connor, are you alright?"

"Don't worry about me. I will see you soon." He ended the call before anything else could be said. The news report finished, and the television cut suddenly back into the gameshow, where the contestant was jumping up and down, screaming about the car she had just won. But all he could hear was the screams.

* * *

Another fifty-eight minutes passed. The other patrons in the waiting room had gotten used to the sight of him by now. While no one was paying any attention to him, no one approached him either.

Connor was still seated in the farthest corner of the lobby, with a good four chair berth around him on all sides, which was really quite impressive considering how many people were waiting. He was completely still, both hands resting against his knees. He might as well be in stasis mode for all that he had moved in the last hour.

His LED was still a solid yellow. Every time the door to the emergency room opened, he would move his eyes in that direction, hoping to see a trauma surgeon, or a nurse, or the woman who had kicked him off of the stretcher. Just like the humans, he was waiting for his name to be called.

He didn't bother looking toward the other end of the waiting room when the automatic sliding doors would open and admit newcomers into the triage. All the new people seem to find him with their eyes almost immediately, covered in now dried blood, LED flickering. That's why he didn't see Lieutenant Hank Anderson enter the waiting room.

"Jesus Christ, kid." Hank's voice was unmistakable, though, cutting through the low hum of talking in the room. Or maybe it was just his mind that was humming. The voice was low, gruff, familiar, and it made Connor's head snap up immediately. "You look like shit."

Hank was looking down at him dubiously, a deep frown on his aging face. For once, he looked remarkably sober, and Connor wondered fleetingly if he was sticking to his resolution to quit drinking so much. He was wearing one of his brightly patterned shirts and was clutching a bag in one of his hands.

Connor stood, but then he didn't know what else to do. Just seeing the lieutenant in front of him had broken down the little composure he had been working to keep over the past hour. His LED was already flashing red again as he tried to fight down the emotions.

"Hank, I—" He stopped, because his voice modulator was malfunctioning. His voice came out broken, wobbly. Distorted. Then he realized that his face was wet, and his internal fans had kicked on, trying to cool him. He was crying.

Hank was still frowning, but he sat the bag in his hands down in one of the many empty chairs around them and opened his arms. Connor didn't hesitate to fall against him. He was shaking now, sobbing, and Hank placed both of his arms around him, wrapping him in a hug.

Connor continued to sob, and he was sure that this would be the point where he self-destructed. His emotions felt out of control. He was falling to pieces. To his surprise, though, his stress levels were actually falling. He hugged the lieutenant back, his face buried in his shoulder, and somehow it was helping.

When Connor finally stepped away, rubbing the tears from his face, Hank scowled at him. It probably had to do with the dried blood that was still coating his hands. "Come on, Connor. You have to get cleaned up. You can't sit here like this."

"I'm not leaving." He said, firm, but Hank didn't back down either. He gestured to the bag that he had brought along, and on closer inspection, Connor realized it had clothes inside.

"There's a couple of cops outside, came to find you and ask you some questions. But they recognized you and called me first," Hank explained. "Now, I will try to find out what is happening with Taylor if you go wash the blood off of you. For fuck's sake. There's a truck stop a block away. You won't be gone long."

Connor opened his mouth to protest but closed it again at the glare that Hank gave him. He glanced down at the bag of clothes, his brow furrowing. "They're mine. The only thing you left at my house was that stupid CyberLife uniform."

"Thank you, Lieutenant." Hank waved him off, making sure he was headed for the doors before he walked toward the desk to ask after Taylor. Connor fought the urge to hover, to see if he could hear anything before he left, and instead resolved to get himself cleaned up as quickly as possible.

* * *

When he returned to the emergency room, his blood covered clothing now in the plastic bag, Hank was waiting in the seat where he'd previously been sitting. Connor had spotted the two police officers Hank had mentioned outside of the ER, but they hadn't tried to talk to him. He crossed the lobby, eager to hear any news.

"She's still in surgery," Hank said before he could open his mouth to ask. Connor instantly deflated, dropping into the seat next to him. "They wouldn't tell me anything else since I'm not family."

"Alex is on the way." Connor said, texting him the new information as he said it. Alex responded immediately, saying that he was boarding the plane now. "I don't know about her brother, Jake."

"Alex told me he was out of town until tomorrow," Hank said. At Connor's surprised look, Hank just shrugged. "He called me while I was on the way over here. He was concerned about you."

Connor puzzled over the idea that Alex would be concerned about him while Taylor was in critical condition, but he couldn't figure it out. It was one of those human traits that he couldn't reason with. Illogical.

"You want to tell me what happened, or do you want to give your statement to the cops outside?" Hank crossed his arms over his chest. Connor glanced back at the sliding doors, his LED circling yellow.

"I can compose a report and file it remotely. I still have access to the system." He said after a moment.

"Do you now?" Hank seemed amused by that. Just like Taylor had been, when he had used his access to look up members of Helping Humans in the database. It felt like ages ago now. "Are you planning on coming back to the precinct? Jeffrey is going to try to stick me with some other asshole if you don't."

"I..." Taylor had asked him the same thing. He didn't know why every thought jumped immediately to her. He knew that Hank was trying to distract him. But he glanced down at his hands and swore he could still see the blood. "I would like that."

"Good. I can only stomach one asshole at a time." Hank genuinely seemed pleased. Connor should have been happy, too. "Are you sure you don't want to tell me about it? Not as a statement, just...you know."

They sat in silence for a while, the offer occupying the space between them. Connor didn't know if he could say it out loud. If he wanted to. It was enough to have the scene playing in his memory over and over again. But perhaps if he put words to it, the memory might be satisfied.

"It happened right in front of me," he said quietly. "We were leaving the airport and she stopped to talk to her fans, take pictures. I didn't even know what had happened at first, until she said my name. And she started to fall."

His LED was flashing red again. He remembered her legs giving way as his arms came around her, the woman across from her screaming at the sight of all the blood. "She wanted me to help her, but there was nothing...there was so much blood. I couldn't even slow it down. I felt it, when her heart stopped."

He was staring at his hands, seeing the blood again. He clenched them into fists, squeezing his eyes shut. Hank put a hand on his shoulder, but he didn't feel like he deserved the comfort. "I shouldn't have let her stay. I should have made her leave."

"Taylor isn't the kind of girl who would have let you make her do anything. You did everything you could, kid." Hank was right, of course. Taylor wouldn't have left even if he'd told her to. He'd fallen into the same trap that he always did, that illusion that she always knew what she was doing.

"What if she dies?" He said the thing he'd been afraid to even think, for fear that it might come true. Technically, she had been dead when they rolled into the hospital, but dead people could be resuscitated. She could be fixed. At least, he hoped she could be fixed. He couldn't imagine what he would do if she couldn't.

"Don't think like that. They're still working on her. No one is going to let her die." Hank was trying to be reassuring, but even he didn't sound like he fully believed it. Perhaps he was remembering when his own son had died on an operating table, maybe in this very hospital. "We just have to wait."

* * *

Waiting, it turns out, was awful. Every hour that passed without any kind of news felt like it was chipping away at his sanity. The emergency room waiting area had and underlying sense of desperation to it, a stench of purgatory with an endless revolving door.

Connor was watching the people come and go now. He found it more distracting than anything else he had tried. A singular glimpse into someone's life, possibly their most vulnerable moments. They walked through the sliding doors to sign in and have their fates decided. Some moved through immediately, some left, and some, like himself, were left to wait indefinitely.

The doors slid open again, but it was Hank who came through. The lieutenant had stepped out a few minutes ago to take a phone call. Now he crossed the lobby and reclaimed his seat next to Connor. In the interim hours, since he wasn't covered in blood, other people had deemed it safe to sit a little closer to them.

"They caught the android," Hank said after a few minutes of silence. He seemed to have worked his way up to saying it, and he still looked a bit apprehensive. Connor glanced over, reading the tension in his body language.

When he didn't respond for another minute, Hank sighed. "The damn thing self-destructed. They cuffed it and put it in the cruiser and it just started bashing its head in."

Connor found that he wasn't surprised by this news. In fact, he wasn't really affected by anything Hank had said. Was this what humans considered shock? He just wanted to know what was happening with Taylor. Nothing else mattered.

"Weird behavior for a deviant, don't you think?" Hank tried again, despite his indifference. "They didn't even get it back to the station. Didn't ask it any questions."

"It wasn't deviant." Connor said finally.

"The fuck you mean it wasn't deviant?" Hank said immediately, sitting up straighter in his chair. "If it wasn't deviant then someone ordered it to do what it did."

Even Hank couldn't say the words. Or maybe he didn't say them out of courtesy to Connor. Whatever the case, Connor gave him a blank look. "The android protest group known as Helping Humans has been using non-deviant androids to carry out their agenda."

"How the fuck do you know that?" Hank didn't sound disbelieving. He was just trying to piece the puzzle together for himself. Connor realized he knew this mostly because of the information Raj had given Taylor, which had later been corroborated by Markus and North.

Raj was still working to move androids across the United States border, apparently now in Canada and Mexico. Connor knew he could not expose such an operation and betray Taylor's trust, so he said instead, "Markus came to Washington D.C. because of threats to his life from these androids. It's also why he stayed behind today instead of coming with us."

"Why the hell doesn't anyone else know about this?" Hank said next. He sounded disbelieving now.

"Androids do not have rights." Connor said simply. Hank opened his mouth to protest, to say something else. Then he closed it, letting out a string of curses under his breath.

"Guess you're right. What were they supposed to do, call the police?" Connor had the sense that Hank was more talking to himself now, muttering, angry. "Fat fucking joke that would have been at the precinct."

The lieutenant continued grumbling to himself for a few minutes. Connor watched a couple on the other side of the lobby. The woman was visibly pregnant and visibly pale, her arms wrapped around her belly. The man was hovering next to her, worried, talking, and she was trying to wave him off. He could read her lips whenever she said, 'I'm fine.'

They were called back almost immediately. Connor watched them go, and he couldn't stop himself from running a scan. He couldn't detect a fetal heartbeat.

"Do you think they were after Markus?" Connor blinked, turning back toward Hank. The older man was frowning now, the lines in his face becoming more prominent.

"I don't know," he said honestly. He didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to blame Markus, to resent him for this. "Maybe. If they thought Markus would be returning to Detroit with us. But they had just as much cause to silence Taylor."

Connor clenched his hands into fists. He didn't want to do this, be detective on Taylor's attempted murder.

"Yeah, except like you said, androids don't have rights." Hank was watching him closely now, perhaps trying to tread as lightly as possible. "Doesn't make sense that they'd attack a human. They have to know there'd be repercussions."

"Perhaps they don't care about repercussions. Or perhaps, as you suggested, they were really after Markus and Taylor was just a convenient substitute." Connor found he didn't like this explanation at all. That Taylor had died in his arms because of an accident, a secondary target. "That android would have had a very specific set of orders, though. It would have been programmed to target Taylor if Markus was not present. The end result is the same."

"Do you think you could find out what the android was programmed to do? Or who it belonged to?" Hank said. Connor frowned. His LED flickered yellow.

"It depends on the damage done to its processors and memory when it self-destructed. It sounds as though there will be little left that isn't destroyed. It was probably programmed to self-destruct if captured."

"Fuck." Hank said, sighing heavily. "These guys sound like a bunch of assholes. Assholes who know what they're doing, which are the worst kind of assholes."

Connor nodded, but he was distracted now because the door leading back to the emergency department had opened again. A woman stepped out clad in blue surgical scrubs, her eyes sweeping the room.

It took him a moment to recognize her because when he'd rolled in on the stretcher, she'd been wearing a surgical cap and mask, ready to roll into the bay. All he'd been able to see was the dark blue of her eyes as she told him to get off the stretcher. Now, her whole face was visible as she crossed the room toward them.

"You're the android who rolled in with Trauma Delta." She pulled to a stop in front of them. Her hair was still tucked under the surgical cap, but he could see where sweat had collected at her temples and along her hairline. Her dark blue eyes drifted over to Hank. "Are you family?"

"Is she okay?" Connor cut in before Hank could muster a response, nearly stuttering in his flustered state. The woman, whose badge identified her as the trauma surgeon, narrowed her eyes at him.

"Are you family?" She repeated, completely ignoring his question. Connor's programming had prevented him from harming humans. Even as a deviant, he had never had the inclination. Now, however, he had an unbelievable urge to grab the woman and shake her.

"We aren't," Hank said finally, speaking before he could act on his impulse. "I've known her since she was a kid, and her and Connor are—" He paused, glancing at Connor, realizing he didn't quite know how to finish the sentence. "Her family is on the way in from out of town. Can you just tell us if she's alright, doc?"

She pursed her lips, sighing out of her nose. Then she looked between them, considering for a moment. Finally, she said, "She is stable. We are moving her to the trauma intensive care unit. I can't tell you anything else."

Stable. Connor knew he should have felt more relief. Taylor was alive. But it was the way that the doctor said it, the indirect way that she wasn't looking them in the eyes. He was designed to pick up on subtle body language and social cues, after all.

"Can we see her?" Connor asked next, pressing the issue. If he treated this like an interrogation and read the signs, maybe he could trick her into revealing some information.

"I'm afraid not. You will have to wait until family arrives." She shook her head, firm.

"If you just ask her," he insisted, "She'll say it's okay."

"Connor, was it?" All of the amiable inflection had drained out of her tone. She was looking directly in his eyes now when she said very clearly, "You will wait in the ICU waiting room until family arrives. If you ask any more questions trying to get me or anyone else to violate privacy laws, I will have you escorted out. Is that clear?"

"Yes, ma'am." Connor swallowed. He glanced at her badge again. Amelia Odell. "Thank you, Dr. Odell."

Her expression softened just a bit. "Someone from registration will come so that we can admit her under her actual name. Do either of you have her personal information?"

"I do," he said, nodding. Whatever he didn't know offhand he could easily find out, though he knew Taylor wouldn't appreciate it.

"Good. I'll leave a number so that you can call when her family gets here, and we can speak again."

When she left, going back through the door to the emergency department, Connor frowned. He turned the word stable over and over in his processors, trying to find the trap inside of it. Stable meant alive. Stable meant not rapidly declining. Whatever else it meant the doctor had given him little clue.

"You look put out for someone who just got pretty good news." Hank said, interrupting his thought. Connor looked over, tilting his head.

"Put out?"

"It's an expression. Dissatisfied." Hank sighed.

"I will feel more at ease when we know the nature of Taylor's condition." He said in response, still frowning. "We should find the ICU waiting room." He hesitated. "Are you staying?"

"I ain't leaving you alone." Hank rolled his eyes at him, like it had been a stupid question. "I'll have to go home and let Sumo out at some point, though."

"Alex should be here soon. He got on the plane hours ago." Connor said, standing. Hank followed suit, and they set about delving deeper into the hospital to find the ICU.


	54. Fix You

**Coldplay – Fix You**

Alex arrived at the hospital at 9:47 pm. Connor had been there for almost eleven hours, barring his brief trip to the truck stop shower to wash Taylor's blood off. Hank had also made a brief trip to walk and feed Sumo, but now he was dozing in one of the waiting room chairs, his head lolled against the wall beside it.

Alex came sweeping into the room, impossible to miss in the nearly silent waiting area. His black hair was a tangled mess around his face. There was a duffle bag slung over his shoulder with the airport tag still attached to it. He somehow appeared half-asleep and frantic at the same time, his eyes jumping around the room until locating the two of them.

He had called Connor as soon as the plane landed, but all that he could relay was what the doctor had told him. There would be no more information until Alex arrived. He walked toward them now, dumping his bag into an empty chair, still making more noise than the room had been exposed to in a while. There was only one woman sitting in the far corner, and she gave them a sour look. The man behind the reception desk was watching with interest.

"I tried to call on the way over to get information, but they wouldn't give me anything over the phone," he said by way of greeting. Hank had startled awake when he dropped his bag and was blinking up at him sleepily. "They said I had to speak to the doctor when I got here."

Connor felt that sense of unease returning. It had been so blatant when the doctor had used the word 'stable' on him earlier, but time and waiting had worn it down. He'd talked himself around his worry, convinced they were just being cautious.

He produced the phone number that the registration woman had left for him, written on a sticky note. It was the number for the trauma surgeon, she had explained. The doctor would change, but the number would not. He gave the slip of paper to Alex.

"This is the number they said to call when you arrived," Connor explained when Alex gave him a perplexed expression. "It's for the trauma doctor."

Alex seemed to pale as he looked at it, but he pulled his phone out, nonetheless. He turned away to dial the number, pacing back across the waiting room as he did so. Holding the phone to his ear, he held a two-minute conversation before he returned.

"The doctor is on the way." Connor stood. He reached up to adjust his tie, then remembered he was wearing Hank's clothes, so he didn't even have a tie on to straighten. He couldn't tell if the unpleasant tittering in his systems was nerves or excitement that he would finally know, finally get to see Taylor.

The locked door that connected the waiting room to the unit opened several minutes later. All three of them looked up, nearly in unison. To Connor's surprise, it was Dr. Amelia Odell. Her shift must have ended already, but she was holding a cup of coffee in her hand and looked surprisingly alert.

As she approached the three of them, however, her eyes giving Alex a once over, she didn't look impressed. The cap she was wearing earlier was gone, her dark brown hair tied back in a short ponytail. When she stopped in front of them, she stuck her hand out in the space between, offering a slight smile.

"Doctor Amelia Odell," she said in greeting. Alex shook her hand but couldn't manage a return smile. He looked nervous. "How are you related to the patient?"

"I'm not related to her by blood," Alex responded. Though he still looked pale and somewhat uncertain, he spoke firmly. "My name is Alex West. I'm Taylor's legal guardian and power of attorney."

"I see." She seemed to relax at this. She considered him for another few seconds before she finally released his hand. "Follow me."

Doctor Odell led them out of the waiting room, but not through the locked door she had come from. Instead she walked down the hall, into a tiny room. Connor read the sign beside the door as they entered, simply dubbed the 'Quiet Room'.

"Connor told me that Taylor is stable." Alex said, settling into a seat across from the doctor. He glanced around the room, again unsure. Connor took the spot beside him, leaving Hank to take the very end of the couch.

"Yes," Doctor Odell nodded. She sat her cup of coffee down on the table between them. "I wanted to speak to you about the nature of Taylor's condition before I take you back. You are aware of what happened to her?"

"I know that she was stabbed," Alex said. He swallowed, his voice thick.

"Taylor was stabbed just below the breastbone. She retained injury to her left lung and the left ventricle of her heart. When she arrived at the hospital, she was in full cardiac arrest due to the collection of blood around her heart, known as a tamponade."

Alex listened to all of this in silence. He didn't react, though his eyes did flicker in Connor's direction when the doctor mentioned Taylor's cardiac arrest. It was not hard to reason out that Connor had not been forthcoming on the reality of Taylor's condition.

"We opened her up in the trauma bay. With the help of one of our cardiothoracic surgeons, Dr. Vijay, we were able to repair her lung and her heart." Doctor Odell glanced between them. Her voice was calm and steady. Connor had the distinct impression that she did this kind of thing often. "However, because of the extent of the damage, Taylor is requiring extensive life support at the moment."

"Extensive?" Alex repeated the word as a question, but his voice was strained. He didn't say anything else.

"Taylor is on a ventilator, which is breathing for her. Due to the nature of her injury, Dr. Vijay and I thought it best to place Taylor on ECMO. In simple terms, ECMO is a form of life support that does the work of the heart and the lungs for the body, circulating and oxygenating the blood. This will allow time for her to heal.

"We have also initiated therapeutic hypothermia. It is a standard when a patient has a witnessed arrest. We do it to protect the brain and other organs. She'll be kept at 34 degrees Celsius for twenty-four hours, and then slowly warmed over the following twenty-four hours."

Doctor Odell finally stopped talking. Connor found that he was grateful. He didn't know how much more he could have listened to, and when he glanced to his right, Alex looked to be in a similar state.

"What—" Alex paused. He swallowed again. "What are her chances for survival?"

"Right now, the prognosis is guarded. We will have to wait a few days, to see how she is progressing, before I can give you a more definite answer." Doctor Odell looked between them again. "I wanted to explain this to you before I take you back. It can be quite scary, seeing your loved one attached to so much machinery. I want you to know we are doing everything that we can."

The hush that settled over the tiny room felt more like a pause in time than a moment of silence. Nobody moved. Connor stared at the boxes of tissues on the table, trying to imagine what other news that the doctors gave in this room. Trying not to imagine receiving the same news about Taylor.

Finally, Doctor Odell stood. "Would you like to come back and see her now?"

"Yes." Alex stood and Connor followed suit. They all filed back toward the waiting room, but Doctor Odell stopped before the locked door leading into the unit.

"We ask that only two people at a time come back." She said.

"I'll stay here," Hank said immediately. He took Alex's duffel bag, which he had been carrying with him, and headed back to the seat he'd been occupying before. Doctor Odell swiped her badge, the door unlocked, and she led them through.

The intensive care unit reminded Connor of an aquarium. The walls of the rooms were all glass, giving each separate space a fishbowl-like quality. He could see everything happening inside as he passed, a multitude of strangers attached to monitors, machines, tubes and wires. Nurses inside the rooms tending to patients or sitting just outside, looking in through the glass.

Taylor was in room 109, down the hallway and around a left turn. With the long explanation that the doctor had given them, Connor thought he would be prepared for the sight that greeted him. He wasn't sure he could have ever truly readied himself for it though.

There were tubes everywhere. In her neck, trailing out from under her gown to various containers, lines connected to intravenous medications, and the one coming from her mouth to the ventilator by the bed. It was just one of several machines attached to her.

Alex had frozen in the doorway to the room. Doctor Odell placed her hand on his shoulder while Connor stepped around them, further inside. It was only due to the fact that the rooms were quite large that there was any room to step at all. He knew that the doctor was speaking again, but he couldn't take his eyes away from Taylor.

"Please don't touch her." He startled when the nurse put a hand on his forearm. He hadn't realized how close he had come to the bed, or that he had reached his hand out to touch hers. The nurse gave him a sympathetic look as she said, "I'm sorry, it's just that while she's cooled, we can't do anything to affect her temperature."

"I'm sorry," Connor said, lowering his hand back to his side. He glanced back toward Alex, but he was still silent in the doorway, unable to move any closer. He turned back to the nurse hovering at his side. "May I stay with her?"

The nurse wavered then, looking over his shoulder at Doctor Odell. The doctor came into the room, stepping closer to him. "We don't normally allow visitors in the intensive care unit overnight."

"I'm an android," Connor said, turning now to face her. She was much shorter than he was, coming to just the center of his chest, so he had to tilt his head down to look into her eyes. "I don't require food or sleep or any sort of comfort. I just want to stay with her. Please."

Doctor Odell inclined her head up to return his gaze, her lips curving down into a slight frown. Her blue eyes moved very slowly over his face. Then she looked past him, to the nurse. "I leave that up to you." To him, she added, "The nurses are here 24/7, so if you stay it is at their discretion."

"I don't mind if you stay," the nurse said, giving him a small smile.

Doctor Odell headed back to the door, pausing only to pat Alex on the shoulder before she left. Alex passed a hand over his face. He still looked quite pale, an odd effect against his normally tan complexion, but he'd kept his composure rather well.

"I should...find some place to stay. I guess." His eyes only passed over Taylor's form for a fraction of a second before settling on Connor, like he couldn't bear to look at her for too long. "If she is going to be like this for twenty-four hours. I will come back in the morning. Just, call me if anything changes?"

"Of course." Connor nodded his assent. "Will you tell the lieutenant he can go home, as well?" He hesitated, then said, "Thank you, for calling him."

"You're welcome." Alex nodded back. He gave Taylor one last, lingering look that made him stand in the doorway for another good minute, like he was reconsidering his decision to leave. But he finally turned and walked out.

Connor retreated to the farthest corner of the room, away from the machines and the bed. He wanted to be close to Taylor, but he didn't want to run the risk of getting in anyone's way and having them kick him out. He could see everything from this perspective, and it was a constant struggle not to be running continuous scans on her inert form in the bed.

The nurse that had given him permission to stay returned to the computer that was attached to the wall. She had a rolling stool sitting in front of it and what he assumed was Taylor's medical chart open on the screen. There was another nurse in the room, seated in front of one of the machines by the bed, who had been silent up until this point.

It was the second nurse who was watching him curiously now. When she saw him looking back at her, she said, "Do you have any questions?"

A million. He wanted to know everything that was going on. He was already scanning the machines in the room, searching for information on their purpose and functions. He was a detective android, not a medical one, so he understood human anatomy, but he had no idea what most of this equipment was for.

"Are you just here to run that machine?" He asked, indicating the machine that she was seated in front of. She gave him a smile, nodding.

"I am. This is called a Cardiohelp. It's doing the work of the heart and the lungs. It requires specialty training to operate, and a separate person to manage while another nurse does the rest of the patient's care." Connor listened to her explanation, already searching for more information.

The nurse was willing to explain everything to him, though. She only paused to do the routine blood testing and maintenance to the machine every hour, and even then, she explained what she was doing and what changes she was making based on the results. The more she explained, the more comfortable he became asking questions.

Eventually, the other nurse joined in, explaining Taylor's lab results and ventilator settings and the frequency of her tests. He didn't realize he had moved closer, or how much time had passed. They spoke to him like he belonged there. Like a person.

Like a human.

* * *

Markus arrived the next morning. The nurses had changed shifts, so Connor had resumed his quiet vigil in the corner, well out of the way. He had spoken to Alex earlier in the morning to let him know there hadn't been any changes. The other man had told him that he was going to meet Jake, who was coming back into town that morning, and let him know Taylor's condition before he brought him to the hospital.

Therefore, Connor was alone in the room with the two nurses when Markus walked in. The deviant leader had the same reaction at the sight of Taylor that both he and Alex had the previous night.

Connor watched him freeze by the doorway, not moving to greet him. He'd had a whole night to stew over his thoughts and found that he hadn't quite reconciled with Hank's theory that this attack may have been intended for Markus. That may not necessarily be Markus's fault, if it were true, but it didn't mean he had to forgive him for it.

"Connor." Markus finally noticed him, sitting in the corner. The nurses from the nightshift had brought him a chair even after he insisted that he didn't need one. Markus nodded to the two nurses in the room now as he walked past them.

He was quiet for a few minutes longer as he stood next to Connor, just staring at Taylor with a quiet disbelief. His arms were crossed over his chest as he leaned into the windowsill. Finally, he turned his head away. "What happened?"

Connor knew that Markus must have known the gist of what happened to Taylor. At the very least, he must have seen the news reports. Reliving the whole series of events was not an appealing thought, but Markus appeared genuinely distraught by the sight of the blonde.

So Connor retold the whole bitter tale once again. He didn't feel the usual catharsis that came with speaking of his emotions. Markus listened in reverent silence, a frown on his face that deepened as the story went on.

When it was done, he asked the very same question that Hank had the day before, only phrased slightly different. Tinged with guilt. "Do you think this is my fault? I shouldn't have stayed in Washington."

"Nothing good would have come of it either way. There's no way of knowing for sure if Taylor was their target or not." Connor found that he couldn't be cruel to Markus even if he did hold him slightly responsible.

"She tried to convince me not to stay. It was like she knew something was going to happen." Markus wasn't content to let it go so easily. Connor remembered the conversation in the hotel lobby that morning, before the flight. How worried Taylor had been.

"Taylor was worried something would happen to you in Washington. She didn't think anything was going to happen in Detroit." Connor said reasonably. If she had, he thought to himself, she wouldn't have lingered there at the airport.

"We knew that Helping Humans was a threat. We just didn't think they would be so bold." Markus tracked the movements of the nurses as they completed their tasks for the hour. Connor had grown so used to it that he didn't bother. Quietly, he said, "Do they think she will survive?"

"The doctor says it's too early to tell." Connor said. Markus didn't respond while he was watching the nurses, his expression neutral. After they had finally settled back into their seats, he looked down at the floor again.

"Raj was right. I should have let her go back to California." Connor was surprised. Mostly because he didn't think that Raj had said anything to Markus about not wanting Taylor to be their ambassador. Also, though, because he didn't think Markus would have regretted that much of it, especially after the conversation they'd had in Washington.

He couldn't imagine how different things would have been had Taylor returned to California with Alex after the revolution. How different he would be. He had thought the same thing about sending her back to California, but the more he thought about it, he didn't know. He wasn't sure what would have been best anymore, if anything would have saved her.

"There is no point in saying what we should or should not have done," Connor said at last. "We just have to hope she will get better."

Markus gave him a sideways look, his eyebrows furrowed. Perhaps the response sounded callous, but Connor had been driving himself crazy with the same thoughts for days. He knew there was no point.

Markus placed a hand on his shoulder. "She's going to get better."

He said it with conviction, but it didn't mean anything.


	55. How To Save A Life

**The Fray – How to Save A Life**

Connor walked into the precinct, heading straight for Hank's desk. It had only been a couple of weeks since he'd been here, yet somehow it felt longer. Alex had shown up at the hospital with Jake in tow. Connor found that he had endured enough of watching people see Taylor's condition for the first time.

Hank had called him early that morning to say that they were ready for him to take a look at the android that had stabbed Taylor whenever he had the chance. He was not looking forward to this experience in the least, but he knew it had to be done. He supposed that the concept of justice was important to humans. He was built on logic, and no amount of justice was going to change that Taylor was fighting for her life in a hospital bed.

Hank spotted him when he was still several desks away and rose from his chair. To Connor's surprise, the lieutenant drew him into a hug when he made it close enough. One that he hadn't realized he needed.

"How is she?" Hank asked quietly. Connor just shook his head as he pulled away. "Sorry, kid. Let's get this over with."

He nodded. He already felt anxious, being away from the hospital. What if something happened while he wasn't there? What if he missed something? The thought had gnawed at him from the moment he stepped out of Taylor's hospital room.

Brushing the thought aside, he followed Hank toward the evidence room. He also hadn't been here since that fateful day of Jericho. Before he was deviant. Now the room was empty of all of the evidence pertaining to the deviant cases, probably filed away in a more remote area of the precinct.

Connor spotted the android immediately. It had been laid out on a table, he supposed for ease of access, though the gesture was unwarranted. The whole front of its face had been crushed inward. The thirium had evaporated, but he could still see it smeared into the severe areas of damage and exposed wiring.

He suspected this would be an exercise in futility based on how much of the android's skull was caved in. Most of the synthetic skin was ripped away, leaving just shards of fractured plastic. Still, Connor glanced around, then settled his gaze back on Hank.

"I'm going to need some tools."

"You think you can do it?" Hank asked. The note of hope in his voice made Connor frown.

"There is a very remote chance. But I may as well try." He said. The two of them left the evidence room. It took a good hour to acquire the separate tools Connor said he would need to repair the android's memory enough to access it.

As he set his supplies out on the table in the evidence room, he glanced up at Hank, still lingering by the door. "There is a significant chance that the android purged its memory before it self-destructed."

"What are the chances these whack jobs knew how to program an android like that? Sounds complicated." Hank said. Connor frowned, but he couldn't argue that point. He had done what research he could into Helping Humans, but he had no way of knowing their inner working or who comprised their members. They could have ex-CyberLife employees among their ranks.

He took a seat and set to work. Hank left him in peace, leaving the room and returning to his desk. For a long while, he worked in silence, picking the broken pieces of plastic away from the android's face so that he could gain entry to its programming.

At least an hour passed. He had pieces of plastic laid across the table and was just starting to attempt to reattach wires and assess damage when Officer Chris Miller joined him in the evidence room. Connor thought he was coming to register evidence, but it only took a moment to realize his hands were empty.

"Hey, Connor."

"Officer Miller," Connor returned, nodding his head. He continued to work, but Chris lingered, eyeing him.

"I didn't know you were back on the force," He said next, conversationally. Connor looked up again, hands pausing over the android's head. He ran a scan on Chris, showing the young man's increased stress levels.

"Not officially," Connor said, resuming his work even though he was slightly perplexed by the situation. "I am helping Lieutenant Anderson with something."

"Taylor's case," Chris said quietly. Connor froze again. Not intentionally. His emotions went haywire at the sound of her name. "How is she?"

He fixed his eyes on Chris again, who had an anxious look on his face. He knew that Chris and Taylor had spoken, more than once. Did that make them friends? Acquaintances? "She's in critical condition."

"Oh." Chris lowered his eyes to the android, its face deconstructed on the table. A sadness tinged his countenance as he said, "I'm sorry to hear that."

Connor lowered his head and resumed working. He didn't know what else to do, or what to say. There was a brief pause, before Chris moved closer to the table. "Do you need help?"

"There is very little chance of success. I'm not sure how you could assist." After a pause, he added, "But thank you."

Chris turned to go, but before he made it across the room, he turned one more time to say, "You should come back. To the force. Officially."

He left, before Connor could think to respond. The time continued to drift by, Connor carefully reattaching wires, removing pieces that were too damaged to salvage. He had the android's memory storage plugged directly into a tablet, but he still only got messages of corrupt data every time he tried to probe for information.

"Oh good, the tin can really is back." Connor raised his head to find Gavin Reed standing in the doorway now, his hands on his hips. "They're all talking about it out there, but I had to see it to believe it."

"It is good to see you, too, Detective Reed," Connor said mildly, returning to his work. He heard Gavin make a noise of disgust as he stepped closer.

"I just thought they must be wrong. You spend all your time up Taylor's ass, there's no way you'd be here." Connor's fingers twitched enough to pull the wire he was trying to reattach loose. His first instinct was to curse. He must really be hanging out with Hank too much.

"Her family is with her right now." He said, keeping the anger out of his voice. He knew that Gavin was trying to get a rise out of him. The more disappointing thing was how easily it seemed to be working. His emotions were in such disarray that the smallest provocation would have done it.

"Yeah, guess that wouldn't include you, would it?" Gavin sneered. Connor felt his hands clench into fists, his jaw tense, but he stopped himself from standing. Instead, he raised his head and met Gavin's grey eyes.

"I am grateful, Detective Reed, for the kindness you showed to Taylor, whatever possessed you to do it. I would appreciate it if you would control the need to harass me while she is on the brink of death so that I may finish this task and return to the hospital." Connor bit off each word with more venom than he perhaps intended, but his jaw was still clenched. He was angry.

Gavin paled, but Connor knew it wasn't because of his tone. His brow furrowed, confused, but Gavin swallowed before he said, "Do you think she is going to die?"

It occurred to him, then, that maybe Gavin hadn't come down here to annoy him at all. Along with the news that Connor was in the precinct, maybe Chris Miller had told others that Taylor was in critical condition. In his own way, Gavin was worried, he just wasn't very good at showing it.

Taylor had managed, somehow, to get under the prickly detective's skin. And somehow, even lying in a hospital bed, dead to the world, she still had managed to amaze him.

"It's too early to tell," Connor said finally. "Taylor is on extensive life support. The doctor said it will take a few days before we have an idea if she will survive."

He didn't look at Gavin as he said it. He concentrated instead on reconnecting the wire he'd pulled loose a moment before. The room was silent for a while he worked, but Gavin didn't leave, didn't even move. After he fixed his mistake and moved on to another damaged section, Gavin cleared his throat.

"I shouldn't tell you this," he began, which caught Connor's attention immediately, "but I found Anthony Jacobsen's personal notes in CyberLife tower. They outline pretty much word for word what he intended to do to Taylor. Kill her and replace her with that android."

"Markus said he didn't find anything," Connor said in disbelief. Gavin huffed in annoyance.

"Yeah, well, your android friend is a shit detective, isn't he?" He was still scowling, but he aimed it at the android on the table. "Not like it matters now, but it should be plenty to convict him. I heard his lawyer was going to try and get the charge reduced to battery."

"It would have meant everything to Taylor," Connor said quietly. "Thank you, Detective Reed."

Gavin's scowl eased into a frown. He kept looking at the android on the table for a minute or two before he abruptly turned to leave. Before he stepped out, though, he said, "When you go back to the hospital, tell her I said not to die."

Connor nodded, but Gavin had already made his exit, leaving him to work in peace. It was another couple of hours, meticulously rerouting and reseating wires inside the android's head, before he finally managed to snag a piece of uncorrupted data onto the tablet. He had really begun to believe it was a lost cause when he received the first few lines of decipherable code.

He set to work with a new burst of energy. By the time that Hank rejoined him an hour later, he had extracted every working bit of information that he thought he possibly could. It was less than enough.

"Any luck?" Hank asked as he came toward the table, looking over the bits of android laid across the surface.

"Not much." Connor said, looking over the small bits of information he had collected in the tablet. "I was able to pull enough data to establish that this android was definitely programmed to target Taylor."

"That's good news." Hank said with enthusiasm. It quickly faded, however, when he noticed that Connor wasn't reciprocating the emotion. "Right?"

"Most of the android's memory is corrupt. It isn't registered to anyone. There is no way to connect it to Helping Humans." Connor said. Hank frowned, all of his previous excitement fading. He stared at the android in silence for a few minutes.

"Didn't you say that some of these androids tried to infiltrate CyberLife and go after Markus?" He asked suddenly. "Could you trace some of those back to them? I'm assuming Markus didn't toss them out with the trash."

"It's possible." Connor said after a moment. "The programming on this android is not very complex. In an undamaged android, I may have more luck."

"Well, don't worry about it now. Go ahead and head back to the hospital." Hank patted him on the shoulder. "I'll log this into evidence for you."

"Thank you, Hank."

* * *

Alex was alone in the room when Connor returned to the hospital. It had been a journey, getting back in amongst the crowd of people outside. Not android protestors, like the congregation always waiting outside of their hotel in Washington, but Taylor's fans. There were significantly more of them, and security was struggling to keep them at bay.

Not only that, but there were flowers. Flowers and stuffed animals and a multitude of gifts that people had sent. There were too many to fit in the room, and Connor saw that they had been distributed down the hallway, to other patients, at the nurse's station. Even in the waiting room.

He took the empty chair next to Alex, who hadn't moved to acknowledge him. Connor hadn't seen Jake on his way in, and he certainly wasn't here now, so he asked, "Where is Jake?"

Alex glanced over then. He was hunched forward, his elbows on his knees, but he leaned back in his chair and sighed. "He went home, for now. He needed a little time to process."

Connor couldn't help but notice that Alex had remained somewhat composed throughout this ordeal. He knew that Taylor and Alex were close, Taylor had tried to explain it to him on more than one occasion. Maybe Alex was just better at hiding what he felt.

"I can't help but feel like this is my fault." Connor's head snapped up in surprise. Alex was staring at Taylor, his lips pressed together, eyes narrowed.

"How could it possibly be your fault?" Connor was genuinely confused by the statement. Alex glanced over at him and gave him a humorless smile.

"Humans are complicated, Connor." He said. "You think this happened because this android protest group targeted Taylor. As if it were simple. But I think it began a long time ago."

"I don't understand." Connor said, his brow furrowing. Alex was staring at the floor now, thoughtful, frowning.

"I've known Taylor for eighteen years. I should have seen it. She tried to tell me, in her way, and I didn't want to see." Alex clenched his hands into fists. "I warned you that Taylor could be a good actress, but I didn't heed my own advice, did I?"

"You aren't making any sense."

"Taylor was being reckless." He said, very simply, like that was the solution to some great puzzle. Connor continued to look at him in bewilderment, but Alex went on, "She always had an inclination to be reckless, but not like this. The stuff with the deviants in Los Angeles. In the past, she never would have kept that from me. I found the supplies she was keeping at her house. How many murders did you investigate here in Detroit related to deviants?"

Connor glanced away. He supposed he hadn't thought of it in that capacity. All of those things had been in the past. Alex wasn't finished, though.

"Who knows how many strangers had shown up at her house, deviants, deviant allies. For months she was at this, until she agreed to come to Detroit to be a consultant on your case." Alex paused then, looking up at him. "When she was coming along to crime scenes, getting hurt, how reckless was she being then? When she was staying in that house for no reason?"

Connor remembered Taylor arguing with Hank, insisting that she would go to the crime scene. She had permission from CyberLife and Captain Fowler, and Hank couldn't stop her. He remembered dropping her off at her childhood home. She could have easily stayed in a hotel instead.

"I got married to Becca two years ago." Alex said, and there was a strain to his voice now. "Taylor was happy for me. She went out of her way to become friends with Becca. Then, a year later, I told her that Becca was pregnant."

The room was quiet for a few minutes. If the two nurses in the room were listening to Alex talk, they were doing a fairly good job of pretending that they weren't. They were going about their tasks for the hour and didn't even spare a glance toward the corner in which the two were sitting.

"I didn't notice Taylor was pulling away. Or I guess it's more accurate to say that I didn't want to. Taylor had been good for so long that I had grown complacent." Alex glared down at his hands, still curled into fists. "Even though I asked her, when I was here in Detroit, if she was punishing me for having a kid. If she thought I was replacing her. I had started to suspect then.

"But she looked at me and she lied right to my face. And I let her." He let his hands relax, and he seemed to deflate. He swiped a hand over his face, rubbed his mouth with it before he dropped it to his lap again. "Then when she called and told me not to call her every day anymore. She might as well have been screaming, and I didn't listen."

"Listen to what?" Connor waited a good length of time before he prompted Alex to continue. He was still perplexed, still not understanding where the story was circling back to or how Alex was to blame.

"Taylor wouldn't have admitted it." Alex said after a while. "She would have felt guilty, being jealous of my new family, feeling unwanted. So she found something to distract herself with." Alex glanced at him. "Not that she didn't truly believe in the deviant cause. But she threw herself in headfirst, she grew more and more reckless, because she didn't care what happened to her anymore."

Connor frowned. His LED was circling red now. He was thinking back over every single moment he'd ever spent with Taylor, trying to find something to prove Alex wrong. Who was he to argue with Alex, the person who knew Taylor best? He just didn't want to accept that Taylor was reckless because she didn't care about her own life.

"It's my fault," Alex said again, this time with a resoluteness that didn't broker discourse. "I should have seen it. I should have helped her."

"As I said to Markus this morning," Connor began, his eyes shifting over Taylor again. He had so many questions. So many things he wanted to ask her. "There is no point in worrying about what we should have done. We can only hope Taylor will get better. You can tell her then."

"I guess you're right." Alex said, though he didn't sound at all convinced.

* * *

"The bill passed." Connor glanced up when Markus walked into the room. A week had passed since Taylor had been in the hospital. He'd scarcely left her bedside in that time, though there hadn't been a whole lot of change in her condition.

He had gone back to the precinct once, after Markus turned over the android that they'd captured and deactivated belonging to Helping Humans. They'd managed to shut it down as it started to self-destruct, so there was very little damage to its processor.

Connor was able to prove the android belonged to Helping Humans, and that the programming was nearly an identical algorithm to the one that attacked Taylor. They were still building a case to arrest the leaders of the protest group.

He knew he should've been happier about it, or even about the news that Markus had just delivered. The Equal Rights Act meant freedom for himself, for his people. Taylor had worked for it, had been devoted to it.

But what had it gotten her?

"That's good." He managed to say. Markus was looking at Taylor, but he glanced back as Connor spoke. Probably the tone of his voice had given him away.

Alex spent most of the days in the room with him but followed the hospital rules and left during the night, trusting that Connor would let him know if something came up. Right now, he had stepped away to get lunch down in the cafeteria.

Jake came and went occasionally, but he could never make himself stay for very long. Rachel called to check on her from New York, but the frenzy after her story on deviants had made it impossible to pull away from work long enough to come. Not when there hadn't been any significant change. He didn't know if Raj had even bothered to ask about her.

Connor rarely left. Almost all of the nurses recognized him by now or knew of him by word of mouth. They didn't bother him, and he stayed carefully out of their way. Markus had been an infrequent visitor, but Connor supposed he must be busy with other things.

"It's a little more than good," Markus said mildly, giving him a once over.

"Forgive me for not jumping for joy." Connor replied, gritting his teeth. His temper had been much shorter as of late, and he regretted the words almost as soon as he said them. With Taylor showing no measurable signs of improvement, however, he had no patience.

"I'm sorry, Connor." Markus had the decency to look abashed. "Has there been any change?"

Connor just shook his head. He didn't like being asked. They had rewarmed Taylor, as they said they would, but she hadn't shown any significant neurological response. Her body was healing. They thought they could take her off of ECMO and let her heart and lungs work on their own again within the week.

Now Connor was struggling to reconcile with the thought of her never waking up again. Was there really a point in keeping her alive, hooked up to machines, if she wasn't really in there? The doctors and nurses all tried to be very optimistic, but he was too good at reading facial expressions. He could tell they didn't believe there was much hope.

"Hang in there, Connor." Markus placed a hand on his shoulder. "Taylor is a fighter."

* * *

Another week did pass. The doctors removed Taylor from the Cardiohelp machine, and her body began to function on its own again. Her heart was beating, her lungs exchanging oxygen with her bloodstream. The tubes in her chest draining the excess blood had been removed.

Compared to the first time he had walked into the room, Connor felt like there was hardly any machinery attached to her now. Just the ventilator, still breathing for her, and the monitor watching her vital signs.

Despite all of that, she still hadn't woken up. They were taking her to MRI shortly to get a better image of her brain, since the CT scan hadn't been definitive. Connor and Alex were to wait in the room while the procedure took place and would know the results a few hours later.

They were sitting there, in the vague silence of the hospital room, when a commotion began in the hallway. At first, Connor thought that maybe an emergency was happening in another room. He had been here long enough to know that sometimes a patient rapidly declined, and staff members would respond in force in attempts to resuscitate and stabilize them.

As the tumult moved down the hallway, his second immediate though was that something had happened to Taylor en route and they were bringing her back to the room. He was rising from his chair, ready to go and check on the situation, when Elijah Kamski walked through the door.

Connor froze, unsure what to do. His presence certainly explained the chaos in the hallway, but there was no accounting for his presence. Sure, Elijah knew Taylor from childhood, but they were not friends. Not if their visit to his house, where Elijah kept android copies of her likeness, was any indication.

"Hello, Connor." Elijah smiled at him like they were old friends, however, making Connor bristle. He may have been a machine the last time they met, but the man had placed a gun in his hand and forced him to aim it at one of those android likenesses to Taylor. It was not a transgression he would easily forget.

"You must be Alex." Elijah turned his smile on Alex, who had been looking between the two of them with a puzzled expression. Elijah closed the distance between them, glancing around the room with a frown. "It seems I'm missing the main piece here."

"Taylor is in a procedure." Alex said, still confused as he took in the sight of Elijah. He had to know who he was, there was scarcely anyone alive of a certain age who didn't.

"Why are you here?" Connor asked bluntly. He kept his face neutral, but Elijah must have detected the contempt in his voice, for his smile widened.

"A couple of reasons." He shrugged, nonchalant. "Mostly to see how Taylor was doing. She is an old friend, after all."

"Is that why you keep all of those Chloe's at your house?" Connor bit off, glaring. Alex's eyebrows rose in surprise, but he didn't interrupt their conversation.

"That's precisely why." Elijah sighed, as though answering Connor's questions was very tiring for him. "I explained before that I took them so that Anthony would not have them. I didn't have the heart to deactivate them." He paused, and then added, "Though a little birdie told me that it didn't stop Anthony from building a new one."

"Who told you that?" Connor heard his voice come out dangerously low, but he didn't do it consciously. No, his conscious self was busy wrestling the urge to throttle Elijah. Alex was still shifting his gaze between them, like he was watching a very intense tennis match and didn't know who to focus on.

"Why, Taylor did of course." Elijah shrugged. Connor sat back down in his chair, hard. That certainly wasn't the response he anticipated. "She thought I might be able to help with it in some way. To find a way to convict Anthony. I told her I would try, but she had to hand it over to me. She was hesitant, and then I think she was distracted by other matters."

"You're lying," Connor said, though there was very little conviction in his voice. How else would Elijah know about the Taylor replica?

"Taylor came to see me again, after that little debacle with you and Lieutenant Anderson." Elijah said after a moment. If he was trying to rattle Connor further, he was doing a good job. Though when he thought back to that particular time, he was still a machine, and Taylor had left him for the revolution just after that. He shouldn't be surprised.

"I thought she was going to scold me, for what I did to you," Elijah continued when he realized that Connor wasn't going to interrupt or protest again. "But she just wanted to ask me questions. Old questions. Like she wanted closure."

He wasn't smiling anymore. He turned back to Alex. "How is she?"

"Medically stable." Alex said. He must have decided he trusted Elijah enough to tell him the truth. "She hasn't woken up yet, though. They're getting an MRI of her brain right now."

"I see." Elijah glanced back to where the bed should have been, frowning. "I thought it might be something like that."

"Then why did you come?" Connor asked again, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. Elijah turned back and met his gaze, his expression carefully blank. They stared at each other for almost a full minute, before Elijah held his hand out in the space between them.

"Because I think I may be able to help." Connor watched in disbelief as the synthetic skin peeled away from Elijah's hand, revealing the white android casing beneath it.


	56. Believer

**Imagine Dragons - Believer**

"I'm not sure I understand." Jake was looking between Alex and Connor with an expression that matched his statement. "I thought Elijah Kamski created androids? How is he an android?"

"Apparently he has perfected some technology which can transfer the human consciousness into an android." Alex said again, sighing. Connor frowned at this explanation.

"Perfected is a strong word. He has performed this procedure successfully twice, on himself and the neurosurgeon who assisted him in developing the technique." He corrected. Elijah had explained the process in detail. Almost all of it had gone over Alex's head. Some of it had even been lost on Connor. At the end of it, he simply sighed and said that Taylor would be alive, she would just be an android.

Alex, ever the practical one, had asked him what the risks would be. Elijah had told them bluntly that he had only had two successful cases, and that both of them had been done on uncomplicated, fairly healthy brains.

_What are your options, really?_ That's what he'd said before he left. To Connor's ears, it had sounded exactly like, 'she's going to die anyway'. It was the pragmatic way of thinking, certainly, but Connor was emotionally invested. He couldn't imagine Taylor dying. If Elijah was the only chance she had left, he wouldn't allow his pride to get in the way.

"So we're just going to give up on Taylor getting better?" Jake had started to raise his voice. They were sitting in the 'Quiet Room', discussing this away from everyone else, and he was getting angry. The opposite of quiet.

Alex and Connor had discussed Elijah's proposition at length. The doctor came into the room and gave them the results of the MRI, saying that Taylor had an anoxic brain injury. She may not recover from it. It had sealed the decision for both of them to move forward with Elijah's plan.

"The doctors all agree that the prognosis isn't good," Alex said softly, trying to meet Jake's anger with calm. "Do you really want Taylor to be alive like this?"

"Why do you always think you know what's best for her?" Jake screamed back at him. A look of shock passed over Alex's face, but Jake was shaking in his anger now, and he wasn't finished. "You're always making the decisions for her, running her life, but you're not her real family, Alex!"

"Is that what you are, Jake?" While Jake was loud in his anger, Alex was quiet. Connor had never seen him angry, not like he was now, and even Jake seemed to falter. "Tell me, where have you been all these years?" Jake opened his mouth to speak, but Alex kept talking, not giving him the chance.

"When Taylor was struggling through PTSD in Los Angeles, refusing to eat, refusing to speak, having night terrors, where were you? Hanging out with your friends? Playing football? Because I don't remember you calling her one time."

"You took her away from us," Jake yelled back, jabbing a finger in his direction. Alex frowned.

"She begged me to take her away," he said, his voice still low. "She would have done anything to not have to stay in Detroit." He narrowed his eyes into a glare. "She was terrified, and you never noticed. Not even at the end."

"Please stop fighting." They all froze. Connor had forgotten that Hayley was in the room. She hadn't spoken since they sat down to explain Elijah's proposal. Alex had insisted that they invite both siblings, considering what they were talking about doing, but it had all gone sideways from there.

Now Alex and Jake were both silent. Jake's chest was still heaving, breathless in his rage, but he attempted to regain control of himself. Hayley was smaller than her sister, shorter, and the dark color she had dyed her hair made her appear paler. She frowned at Jake before she spoke again.

"If this procedure doesn't work, then Taylor will die." The words brought a stillness to the room. Jake fell back into his seat, looking decidedly off put. "I have the least right of any of us to say what Taylor would want. I just know that she loved me for the first five years of my life, and then she let me believe a lie for the rest of it because she thought that I would be better off."

She looked up then, her blue eyes bright with tears. Blue eyes just like Taylor's. "I don't think she would want us all to suffer because of her."

"So what," Jake began, but the fury had left his voice. He sounded resigned now. "We just try this and if she dies, oh well?"

"If she dies, she has peace." Hayley returned, determined. "Doesn't she deserve that?"

* * *

Once they decided to go ahead with it, there were semantics involved. Taylor had to be moved to Elijah's private facilities, along with the replicated android copy of her. The neurosurgeon turned android who had helped Elijah the first time had to be brought in to assist. Somehow, they had to keep this all quiet, when Taylor was a very famous celebrity.

Planning for the event took another week. In that time, Connor kept his vigil at her bedside, but still there was no change. He began to put all of his hope into this new plan, though the words that Hayley had said in the 'Quiet Room' continued to haunt him.

When he paired it with what Alex had said to him about Taylor's growing recklessness, about her pulling away and not caring about her life, it began to give him doubts. What if Hayley was right, and Taylor just wanted peace? Was it cruel to bring her back in such a way?

He knew how much she struggled with her anxiety. With fear. The day she had gone to the cemetery, then had a panic attack leaving the CyberLife tower, he had been so afraid for her. She had lived so much of her life that way. Maybe he was just being selfish.

He couldn't do it, though. He couldn't let her go. Not yet. He was staring at her now, perfectly still in the bed, her chest rising and falling at behest of the machine she was attached to, and he knew that if he was given the choice, he never would. In that way, she had been stronger than him.

"We're ready to move." Simon appeared in the doorway. He and Josh were helping with transport. Markus had been skeptical, at first, when Connor told him what was going to happen, but he came around once he learned that Taylor really didn't have any other chance.

The hospital thought that Taylor was being moved to a private facility to get care. One benefit of her being a celebrity was that people didn't ask a ton of prying questions, and they were used to famous people being eccentric. If the family wanted to move her to a super-rich private hospital to get care, so be it.

Therefore, the hospital staff helped to wheel Taylor downstairs to load her into the transport. They attached her to a portable ventilator, small enough that it fit on the stretcher, and wheeled her onward. When they arrived in the loading area for the ambulances, Connor found that the vehicle that Elijah had provided had been rigged to look very much like a medical transport.

Or maybe he had just bought a medical transport.

Whatever the case, none of the staff suspected a thing as they loaded the stretcher into the vehicle. Elijah had even made some fake paperwork for everyone to sign, so Simon handed it over to one of the nurses who had helped wheel Taylor down.

She only glanced at it for half a second before adding her signature. Josh got into the back with Taylor, and Alex joined him. Simon and Connor both got into the front, but Connor didn't feel his nerves start to ease off until they were driving away.

"That went well," Simon said from the driver's seat, huffing a small sigh of relief. Connor couldn't share in the sentiment. Not yet. He had a feeling he wouldn't be relaxing for days to come, until the whole thing was said and done.

Only the outcome would determine whether he could relax after that.

* * *

"I still don't understand why you're doing this." Connor was watching Elijah move around the room, checking over equipment. He didn't trust the man enough to leave him to his own devices, but he wasn't sure what most of this was for to begin with, so he supposed he was just watching for some sort of blatant betrayal.

"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, Connor." Elijah gave him a sideways glance and a tight-lipped smile before he crouched down on the floor, nearly climbing inside one of the machines along the wall. He was shining a flashlight around the inner workings, slowly, looking at all of the connections.

Connor frowned at the response. He really wished people would stop quoting strange human phrases at him so he would stop having to puzzle out what they meant. Elijah stood again, a moment later, brushing dust off of his knees.

"You don't strike me as the generous type," he tried again. This time, Elijah didn't turn in his direction. He went back to the main console and started reading over the diagnostics on the screen.

"I'm not." He acknowledged after a moment.

"Then tell me why you're doing this. Do you just want more test subjects for your experiment?" Connor tracked Elijah as he went to the other side of the room now, removing a panel and crawling in just like he had a moment before, flashlight in hand. It was quiet while he worked, until he reappeared a few minutes later, returning to the console.

"I didn't intend to perform this procedure again, actually." Elijah said with a shrug, still not looking at him. "Can you imagine if someone like Anthony Jacobsen knew that he could become an android? Basically immortal? No, I've moved on."

Connor was surprised, though he tried not to show it. The Elijah Kamski he had met during his investigation hadn't shown much inclination toward a conscience.

"Why do you want to know so badly? Isn't it enough that I'm doing it?" Elijah asked as he crossed the room. The android replica of Taylor was laid out on the table, and Connor had to glance away. He knew that if this procedure was successful, that android would be the real Taylor. Right now, though, it was just the machine that Anthony had created, the thing that had terrified her. He would need to reconcile the two things eventually.

"Because Taylor is important to me." He said finally, staring at his hands. He thought of how Taylor moved her hands when she was anxious and wondered if she would still do it when she was an android. "She's the most important thing to me."

He looked up to find Elijah looking back at him, that wide and amused smile now on his face. His hands clenched into fists, but Elijah just turned away and continued to work as though the moment hadn't happened, letting it pass. He must have given Elijah something he was looking for, though, because after another few minutes he did speak.

"I feel like I owe it to her, I guess." Elijah's face had gone quite serious, more serious than Connor was used to seeing it. He was looking down at the android below him, frowning, until he reached out and made its synthetic skin disappear. The unremarkable white casing was easier for him to look at, and he kept working.

For a while, that was all the answer that Connor thought he was going to get. Elijah plugged the android into the console and worked in silence for a stretch of time. He must have been working himself up to what he wanted to say though, because after a while he started to talk again, his face still turned toward the screen.

"I told you she came to ask me questions," Elijah began. Connor started, because he had wanted to know but hadn't been able to think of a way to ask. "The truth is that she came to ask me if I had known, back then, if Anthony was the monster that he is. I didn't. Not exactly."

Elijah lifted his head to look at the android again, then ducked it and continued to work. Connor knew his LED had started to flicker amber. He eased his hands out of the fists he had formed and placed them on his knees.

"But that was only a half-truth. I had suspected. Anthony got away with what he did because he and Taylor were almost never in the same room together, but I saw them together when I was working on Chloe." Elijah's shoulders had tensed now, though his hands were still moving calmly across the screen. "You can't hide that kind of fear."

Connor felt his hands clenching again, but he tried to control himself. His LED was flickering red now. Angry. Elijah turned to look at him now, and when he noticed these things, that small bit of amusement returned.

"Go ahead, hate me if you want." He shrugged. "All I had was a suspicion, but I didn't say anything. When I found out later, well, I felt like an asshole. I kept the Chloe's as a way to protect Taylor, because I hadn't done anything to help her the first time."

"Elijah, Doctor Brown said to tell you the patient is ready." As though she had been summoned, Chloe appeared in the doorway. Connor couldn't help but flinch at the sight of her, and she glanced in his direction, her expression concerned.

"Thank you, Chloe. Will you tell him I'm almost ready?" Elijah smiled at her, and it was different from the usual amused and condescending smirks that Connor saw on his face. It almost looked genuine.

"Of course, Elijah." Chloe nodded and walked out again without further ado. Elijah watched her leave before he turned his attention back to Connor.

"To answer your question, Connor," he said finally, turning around to finish running his diagnostics, "I am doing this because I thought, in some way, I could make it up to her. What I did. Or rather, what I didn't do."

Connor supposed it was as good a reason as any.

* * *

"When she wakes up, the first time, you'll have to keep her calm." Elijah was sitting across from Connor and Alex. He was talking as if there was literally no outcome but a successful one, and Connor supposed he probably should be thinking the same thing. He was more worried about keeping his own stress levels under control.

"You both will have to keep her stress levels under manageable control until she can remember who she is. It's going to be very scary for her." Elijah glanced between them. Alex had gone pale, but he was nodding. Connor's LED was flickering a persistent yellow, but he nodded, too.

"What happens to," Alex hesitated, but he pushed on, making himself say it, "to Taylor's human body? When this is done?"

"Her human body is going to die." Elijah said it firmly, bordering on callous. So much so that Alex almost flinched. "There isn't another way to do this."

"Right." Alex nodded again, still looking a little shell shocked.

"Afterwards," Elijah continued, "We'll have to run some testing and calibrations. Make sure that Taylor has fully adjusted to her new body."

"What are the chances you will run into compatibility issues?" Connor asked. He wasn't sure how transferring a human consciousness to an android processing unit was supposed to work, but he did want to know if anything was likely to go wrong. Elijah smirked at him.

"Very low, actually. The android is, as you know, constructed to look and feel exactly like Taylor. Taylor's mind should not have any issues recognizing it as her own. If we can keep her calm." He emphasized the last point again, giving Connor a pointed look.

"Got it."

Elijah left the room, leaving Connor and Alex alone with the immobile Taylor android. Alex stared at it, his eyes wide, his face still pale. Connor had the inclination that he should do something to make him feel better, but he wasn't sure what, and he wasn't doing so well himself.

"What if she dies?" Alex said, quietly into the stillness around them, like he hadn't considered the possibility before this very moment. Connor had asked the same thing to Hank in the waiting room of the ER weeks ago, and he still didn't have an answer. Alex swallowed. "Guess it's too late to be having second thoughts."

They sat there in the silence, pressing in like a tomb, and Connor tried not to think of it that way in case the thought made it true. He hadn't invested much thought into what would happen if Taylor died because he couldn't imagine living without her. He wondered if Alex felt the same way, if that's why he'd agreed to this insane plan, or if humans were better at accepting loss.

Maybe it was just him.

The wait couldn't have been long, but it felt like an eternity. His deviancy had turned the concept of time into an abstract. His thoughts crowded the space, made the very concrete amount of minutes turn to a mire of quicksand of which he was sinking, never ending. Alex must have been feeling it too, because he was bouncing his knee impatiently as he waited, though he never moved his eyes from the android.

The android Taylor didn't have an LED built into it. Obviously because Anthony had been intending to substitute it for the real Taylor and the LED would have been a dead giveaway. Elijah had said there was no point in adding one now, Taylor didn't need it, but Connor would have loved to have something to look at right about now. It would have let him know when she was booting up.

As it was, he thought he imagined it, the first time she moved. He would have convinced himself that her fingers twitching was an illusion if Alex hadn't also jumped in his seat and leaned forward. They both stared, fixated, Alex holding his breath while they waited for her to move again.

When she did, it wasn't a small twitch of her fingers. She sat straight up on the table, taking a gasping breath into her artificial lungs. It was so sudden that Alex cursed and jumped backwards. Connor flinched as well, but he recovered much quicker, already moving forward.

"Taylor," he said, keeping his voice gentle. He needn't have bothered. It was like she didn't even hear him. Her blue eyes were wide, terrified, and she was looking around the room in mute horror. She scrambled backwards before he could reach for her, nearly falling off of the table.

"Taylor," he repeated, a little louder this time, trying to get her attention. This time, her head did snap around to his face, but there wasn't any recognition there. Just fear. Her chest was heaving, even though she didn't need to breathe. She wouldn't know that yet. If she would've had an LED, he knew that right now it would've been red. His certainly was.

"Taylor, look at me." This time it was Alex who spoke. He'd gotten up from his chair and come closer, right up to the table. Taylor did turn to look at him, her eyes still wide, a deer in the headlights. He didn't hesitate to reach for her, to put his hands on her face.

She was an android now, and her stress levels were near critical. She could have easily hurt him, but Alex didn't care.

"You're safe." He said, and she went very still. For a moment, Connor thought she was going to self-destruct. That they had failed, that it was over. "It's okay. Just breathe."

"A-Alex." She launched herself forward, so hard that she nearly knocked him down. He managed to keep his feet as she wrapped her arms around his middle, shaking, still terrified. "Alex, what's happening?"

"You're okay. Just calm down. It's okay," He said it, over and over, placing his arms around her in return. It took a moment for Connor to realize that he was crying, his shoulders shaking with hers, but he still kept repeating the words as he held her.

Alex didn't let her go until she stopped shaking. Or maybe it was after he stopped crying. It was hard to tell from the angle where Connor was standing, waiting very quietly, anxious. He wanted Taylor to turn around and look at him. To see him. To know him, like she hadn't a moment ago.

"What happened?" She asked again, staring at her hands, her brow creased. It was Taylor's expression, Taylor's face, Taylor's blue eyes.

"You're an android now," Connor said, hoping she would look up.

"How?" She asked, still staring down at her hands.

"Elijah Kamski," Connor said next, willing her to look at him. And she did. She lifted her head, her brow still furrowed. When their eyes met, the expression vanished. Her hands fell into her lap. Her eyes moved over his face, and he thought that this must be what dying felt like.

"Connor, I'm—" Whatever she was going to tell him, she didn't get the chance. A sob escaped him, then another, and he broke down. She blinked in surprise, then she reached for him. He fell into her arms without a word, burying his face against her shoulder. Her hand came up, her fingers running through his hair as she shushed him.

Connor knew that he was supposed to be the one comforting her, but he couldn't control himself. She was real, and she remembered him. She felt the same, in his arms. Her voice, murmuring against his ear, was the same. As he scanned her, reading her stress levels, he realized they had fallen lower than his own.

"Hate to interrupt," Connor finally pulled away at the sound of Elijah's voice. He had appeared in the doorway, smiling down at them. "I thought I should maybe disconnect Taylor from the equipment."

Connor had forgotten about the wires attached to her, but he supposed it was probably a good thing she hadn't managed to scoot off of the table and rip them all loose. Elijah came closer to the table, but Taylor hadn't even looked in his direction. Her blue eyes were still fixed on him, lined with concern.

"How are you feeling?" Elijah asked her, finally drawing her attention away. Taylor glanced down at her hands again, staying motionless as he disconnected her.

"Strange." She said after he was done, blinking up at him. He gave her an indulgent smile.

"You'll get used to it." She gave him a strange look, but he didn't elaborate. Didn't let her know that he knew from personal experience. "Do you remember what happened to you?"

There was a beat of silence. She looked down. Placed a hand over her chest. Then, she nodded and said quietly, "Yes."

"Well, I'm sure you've gathered it's been some time since then." Elijah continued on as though he hadn't noticed her reaction. "I'll let these two fill you in and let you process before we start testing you. What are your current stress levels?"

"23%." Taylor said, frowning. Connor could feel them rising after she said it, and he placed his hand over hers. "What do you mean by testing?"

"Well, we have to make sure your systems are operating at maximum capacity, so to speak." Elijah said, waving his hand dismissively. "In the meantime, try not to get stressed out? You need some adjustment time."

He left them again. Taylor watched him go, her expression perplexed, before she turned back to Alex. "How long has it been?"

"Weeks." He said. He had been watching her intently the whole time, his green eyes never leaving her face. "You went into cardiac arrest. You were on life support." His voice faltered. "You were unresponsive. The doctors said there was very little chance you would get better."

They stared at each other. Connor thought back to what Alex had said in the hospital room, about Taylor being reckless. He didn't think that Alex would bring it up now, when they were supposed to be keeping Taylor calm, but he knew he must be thinking of it.

"What happened, while I was out?" She asked, turning away, facing him instead. Maybe she knew, or at least suspected. Maybe she just didn't want to think about what she'd put Alex through.

"The Equal Rights Act passed." Connor said, because he knew she would want to know. Because he knew it would make her happy. And it did. A smile lit up her face, and it was the smile that he'd missed, bright and beautiful and happy.

"That's amazing!" She said. "Did Helping Humans try to repeal?"

"Actually," Alex said, drawing her attention back to him, "They didn't get a chance. Connor was able to prove that the android that attacked you and the one that tried to attack Markus were sent by Helping Humans. Their leaders were arrested and are awaiting trial. They've been quiet ever since."

"Of course he did," Taylor turned back to him with another smile, and he felt his thirium pump quickening. Only now, apparently, Taylor could feel it as well, because her smile widened. He swallowed. He was in trouble now. He just knew it.

"Speaking of trials," Connor said, keeping his voice smooth. Alex didn't notice his hesitation, at least. "Detective Reed managed to find more evidence during his excursion into CyberLife. He convicted your stepfather. He's also tried to appeal, but he's already been denied once."

The amusement had left her face. Her mouth dropped open, and she moved her hand to cover it. She took a few minutes to regain her composure, and Connor couldn't help but be amused at her reaction.

"I guess I owe Gavin, huh?" She said, lowering her hand.

"Just so you know," Alex began, cutting in. "Your brother was not very happy with me when I told him what we planned to do."

"Jake?" Taylor said in disbelief. Alex nodded.

"We got into a bit of a fight." He frowned but didn't go into any details. "Just try to go easy on him, when you see him."


	57. The Scientist

**Coldplay – The Scientist**

After Alex's warning, Taylor thought she would be prepared for Jake. How wrong she was. They had come to the part of her testing, and according to Elijah, they had to prove that all of her memories were intact first and foremost.

She was seated across from Jake and the room felt incredibly small. Though she had known Jake her entire life, she had never known him to be angry. He was easy-going to the point of being blasé. Her older brother, but it was unnerving seeing him sitting across the way, coiled like a predator, tense and hostile.

"I don't see the point of this." He said again. Taylor hadn't been able to say anything from the moment he came into the room. She couldn't fathom what Alex had meant, her going easy on him.

"You have known Taylor longer than anyone." Elijah said, sounding quite bored now. "We already know that Taylor's recent memories are intact, now we need to test the remote ones. As remote as possible."

"How exactly did you do this with yourself?" Jake asked, giving him a skeptical look. Elijah rolled his eyes.

"I obviously couldn't. Now stop being difficult." Taylor looked at Elijah, startled. Was he an android, too? That would certainly make all of this make more sense. "Whenever you're ready, Taylor."

She frowned as Jake turned back to her, fixing her with a scowl. It was almost impossible to think of something to say, with him looking at her like that. Like she wasn't his sister. Like he didn't know her. Like she didn't belong to him.

The room was quiet. They stared at each other, and Elijah was watching them with a contrived look of boredom on his face, but she knew that he was desperately interested. Alex was on Elijah's left, looking on with a frown. Connor was on his right, that furrow between his brows, worried.

To her surprise, Hayley was on the very end. Watching.

"This is pointless." Jake said finally, when she didn't move to speak. "That's not Taylor."

"You were the forgotten one." She said finally. She was still getting used to the sensation of not having to breathe, so a small sigh escaped her when she spoke, pinning Jake with her gaze. He froze in his chair. "At least, that's what you always thought, wasn't it?"

"I don't know what you mean," he said. But he did, she could already see it. In the way he shifted in his seat. In the way his eyes shifted away from her face.

"You and dad were close. So close." She kept her eyes on his face, but he kept his on the floor, frowning now. "He would take you to football games. He showed you how to fix cars in the garage after school. Father and son. Best friends.

"And when he died, when Hayley was born, you were inconsolable. Almost as much as mom." Jake finally looked up. His face was blank now. No longer angry, just listening. "You think I didn't see it, but I did. But mom fell apart. Hayley couldn't take care of herself. I couldn't take care of both of you.

"I thought you would be okay. Because I was just a kid." She smiled, soft, sad. "I didn't know any better. Mom kept raising me to be a perfect actress. I kept raising Hayley. And you kept going, thinking no one could see you."

Tears had collected in Jake's eyes, but she didn't stop. Not now. "That's why, when everything went sideways, I left. I was scared, of course, but I was also afraid that I would ruin you if I stayed. Both of you." She took a breath, remembered she didn't need to, "But I never forgot you."

Jake stood and came toward her. She tensed in her chair, but he pulled her to her feet, all the way on her tiptoes, and wrapped her in a hug. He was much taller than her. He'd inherited their father's height, along with just about everything else about him. She was the one who was just like their mother.

Taylor pushed the thought aside, putting her arms around his middle, hugging him back. Maybe Alex had been right, to warn her to go easy on him. He might have deserved it just a little, though.

"Does this mean I pass?" She asked, smiling into his chest.

"Don't push it." He grumbled.

* * *

"Now we'll have to test your motor functions." Elijah said. He'd brought them to what looked like his personal gymnasium, because of course he had one, and proceeded to clear the floor until they had enough empty space to move. Taylor gave him a dubious look.

"Because walking around isn't enough?"

"Not really. Toddlers can walk. Somewhat effectively at times." He smiled back at her, cheeky as ever. Taylor rolled her eyes before she glanced around at the cleared room.

"So what's your idea? Give me some pointe shoes and I'll show off my balance." Elijah smirked, and the amusement fell off of her face instantly. Connor stepped forward, though, offering his hand.

"May I have this dance?" Instead of the rosy pink that he was used to, Taylor's cheeks turned a soft powder blue as she placed her hand in his. He found he didn't mind the difference. Elijah reached in his pocket and produced a small remote. A few button-clicks later had music playing from unseen speakers around the room.

"You sure you remember how to do this?" She teased as Connor moved closer to her, sliding his arm around her waist. He answered by pulling her into the first step, and she followed him flawlessly.

They moved around the floor, through every walk of the tango that she had taught him, and she didn't miss a single step. There was a smile on her face while they danced, and Connor couldn't look away from it. As close as she was, pressed up against him, she still felt too far away. With too many people watching them.

"Good, good, enough." Elijah cut in, turning off the music. Taylor dissolved into giggles, and Connor held onto her for just a moment longer than he needed to while she shot Elijah an exasperated look over his shoulder.

"If I didn't know any better, Elijah, I would say that you're torturing me for fun."

"That's hurtful." He said in return, sighing dramatically, though he also didn't need to breathe. "Very well, if you want to breakdown on your way out the door. By all means. There is one more thing, if you'll join me."

Taylor gave him a dramatic sigh in return, but she did make to follow after him. Elijah gave Connor a pointed look over his shoulder, adding, "Alone."

Connor frowned, but Taylor just turned back and placed a kiss on his cheek, smiling. "I'll be back."

She turned again to leave, and he found he couldn't protest.

* * *

"I'd offer you a drink like last time, but you know," Elijah gave her another cheeky smile as he settled in his chair. Taylor shook her head.

"At least now I know why you didn't partake. Here I thought you were being weird." She paused, giving him a sideways look. "Or trying to roofie me."

"Now that is hurtful." Elijah said, but he looked like he was trying not to laugh. Taylor smiled in return.

"I'm still trying to work out if you have any feelings under there to hurt." She said honestly. That seemed to erase some of his mirth, but he was looking at her curiously now, unaffected still. "How long have you been an android?"

He sighed, disappointed. "What a boring question. What does it matter? I'm an android. You're an android. What's done is done."

"Easy for you to say." Taylor frowned at him. "Sorry if the idiots have to struggle to catch up to you."

"I don't think you're an idiot." Elijah said, shrugging. She knew he didn't care enough to lie either way. "No one is as clever as me. It's all relative."

"Is this what you meant, when you said you had bigger ambitions than the endless production of androids?" Taylor asked next. Elijah smiled at her then, looking slightly more pleased.

"Now that is a better question." He said. "I'm surprised you remember. Would you believe me if I told you that no, this is not what I meant?"

"Probably not," she admitted.

"This particular experiment came as a side effect to the real project that I was working on at the time. One that I have since completed and plan on rolling out very soon." He paused, considering her. "Should be fairly simple, now that deviants are free."

"I'm not following, Elijah." Her brow knitted as she looked at him, but he was enjoying this part. Stringing her along, making her try and guess.

"I left CyberLife to work on a type of bioprosthetic that would replace the need for human organ transplants. The idea was to use thirium and make it compatible with human tissue, a sort of hybrid that the body wouldn't reject. It would eliminate the need for immunosuppressants after transplants and severely lower complications."

Taylor knew that her mouth had dropped open in shock, but Elijah was enjoying the look on her face. His smile widened, but he gestured his hand between the two of them. "This came about because I had already been successful across most body parts, but I wanted to know if I could go so far as the brain."

"Of course you did," she said, mostly in disbelief. Elijah acknowledged her statement, but he must have considered it a compliment.

"Doctor Brown was a neurosurgeon, yes, but he had also just been diagnosed with glioblastoma. It's a very rare but extremely malignant type of brain tumor. He understood that he had very little chance to survive, and even if he did, he would have to undergo extensive surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation."

"So weren't you just supposed to replace his brain?" Taylor asked, slightly horrified. Elijah pursed his lips.

"Initially, yes, but Dr. Brown was a neurosurgeon. He understood the brain, how it works, what parts you can remove and have it still function." He shrugged. "It was his idea to capture the electrical activity of the brain and transfer it into the processing unit of an android. Honestly, I wasn't convinced it would work, but he was willing to stake his life on it."

"You let him do that?"

"Well, again, glioblastoma multiforme is the most aggressive form of brain cancer. He knew that better than anyone. If he wanted to take his shot on a gamble rather than waste away in a hospital bed, who was I to stop him?" Elijah gave her a pointed look, and she swallowed. Was that the choice that Alex had made for her?

"In the end, I suppose he was right. The neurotransmitters in the human brain communicate via electrical charge. Studies have shown that they store memory through millions of connected neurons. There's obviously more science and brain chemicals involved, but I'm not going to bore you with it. The fact is, it worked."

Taylor was quiet for a few minutes, processing this. "Do you think you will able to do it the other way? Replace someone's brain instead of," she gestured between them, like he had a moment ago, "this?"

"It will require more clinical trials. The point is, I've been successful in the case of pretty much every other body part and organ." Elijah frowned at her, as though he was peeved that she wasn't giving him the credit he deserved. Was he really looking for her approval?

"You sold CyberLife, though." She said carefully, still not biting. "How exactly are you planning to market this technology?"

"Ah, now you're asking the right questions." He smiled again, like he was proud of her. She hated the fact that she was a little proud to have pleased him. "As it stands now, the current CEO of CyberLife is incarcerated and shareholders have all been jumping ship since that little bill of yours passed."

"It wasn't my—" She began, but he waved her off.

"The company is in prime position to be repurchased by me." He shook his head. "No one has any vision these days. There's going to be a huge market for thirium and biocomponents among all these deviant androids running around. And I'll be able to start production on bioprosthetics as early as next year."

"That's," she paused, tilting her head at him. "That's kind of amazing, actually." He grinned broadly, as though he'd just been waiting for her to say it. She couldn't help but smile in return. "Are you secretly a good guy?"

"No. No, I'm not that." The humor faded from his face. The way he said it made her smile drop as well, but he moved on before she could say anything. "Anyway, I didn't bring you here to talk about any of this. We've gone completely off topic."

"Well then, do tell."

"You realize, being an android, you aren't going to age now." Elijah said very seriously. Taylor blinked. "As far as the general public knows, you were moved into private care still in critical condition. You're going to have to make a choice."

"A choice." She repeated. He nodded.

"Alex is afraid to say anything just yet. I think I convinced them you were going to explode if they stressed you out too much." He smirked at her again, and she rolled her eyes. "And Connor could care less. But the fact is, Taylor, that I don't intend to market this ability to turn humans into androids. Too messy. Too much potential for evil."

"Are you sure you aren't a good guy in disguise?" She asked, trying to tease him, but her voice was strained. The pieces were fitting together now. Why this was important. Why Elijah had become a recluse.

"I wouldn't mind if you thought of me that way," He said this time, smiling at her. It wasn't his cocky, condescending, arrogant smile. It was just a smile, and it looked nice on his face. "But you have to choose."

"Choose between what?" Taylor stared at him, into his eyes, frowning. "Faking my own death? Becoming a recluse like you? I'm one of the most recognized faces in the world."

"So was I," Elijah said, shrugging again. As if it had been easy for him to let it all go. She gave him another incredulous look.

"Why did you do it?" She asked. "You said that Doctor Brown came up with the idea, so he must have been the first one. Why would you go through with it and become an android?"

"I had my reasons." Elijah said, firm now. Not willing to give her an inch and play into her curiosity. "It isn't important. What is important now is that you will have to decide."

"Funny," she said, looking down at her hands. "I thought I had already made my major decision before this happened."

"Being a recluse isn't so bad." He said after a moment. "You might like it. You've been famous all your life. People shouting at you everywhere you go. Having to look pretty all the time. Wouldn't you like a change? You can be whatever you want."

Taylor didn't look up to see his expression, because she didn't want him to see the fear on her own face. She didn't want Elijah to know that was the thought that scared her the most.


	58. Things That Break

**Miranda Lambert – Things That Break**

Connor waited for Taylor to return from speaking with Elijah, passing his coin across his knuckles. He was trying to be patient. Patience was a virtue, that was one of the human phrases he was learning. He didn't like it any more than any of the others he'd learned so far.

When Taylor finally did appear at the end of the hallway, he had to tell himself not to rush toward her. He wanted to scoop her up into his arms, crush her to his chest, never let her go. Just watching her walk toward him, a thoughtful look on her face, felt surreal. He still couldn't believe she was back.

Instead of running to her, he caught his coin in between his fingers and tucked it into his jacket pocket. Then he stepped into her path. Her head raised, her eyes catching sight of him, and she smiled. His hands twitched forward, longing to touch her. In the time in which he couldn't, the desire had only grown stronger.

"Connor," she said, stopping just in front of him, tilting her head up to meet his eyes. The sound of his name falling from her lips was music, and he remembered every time she'd ever said it, every time she'd gasped it while they made love.

But her eyebrows were drawing down in concern. She reached her hand out to touch the lapel of his jacket, and he almost shivered. Her eyes were moving over his face, glancing at his LED, and she said, "Are you alright?"

"Yes," he said, but he wasn't sure. He was overwhelmed. She tilted her head, considering him. Then she reached forward and slid her hand into his, pulling him forward.

"Come with me."

Connor didn't protest as Taylor pulled him along, down one hallway, then another. She opened a door, stuck her head in, then closed it and moved on. She did this several times, and he had no idea what she was looking for, but he was content to go along.

When she finally pulled him into a bedroom and closed the door behind them, locking it, he thought she was about to start taking off his clothes. He wouldn't have objected, didn't even care if they were in Elijah's room right now.

But as she pushed him down on the bed, taking his face in her hands, he could tell by her expression that her mind was elsewhere. She hadn't brought him here for that.

"Connor," she said again, her thumbs brushing across his cheeks. There was a plea in her voice. "Tell me what's wrong."

They were alone, and once she had told him that he could touch her whenever and however he wanted if they were alone. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, and he brought his hands up to her waist. She made a small noise of surprise when he slid his arms around her and fell backwards into the bed, pulling her on top of him.

Another small noise escaped her as she landed, pressed fully against him, her nose brushing against his. Connor turned on his side, bringing her with him. She landed, her hair all in her face, and he reached up to brush it away.

His fingers lingered there, in the space below her ear, just beneath her jaw, where her pulse used to be. He stared into her eyes, the ache in his chest still there, still raw. She hadn't said anything while he lifted her, manhandled her into the bed. Her face was still scrunched with concern.

"Come here," she said, snaking her arms around his neck and pulling him into her. He went, eagerly, pressing his face into her chest and tightening his arms around her middle. She slid her leg over his hip and curled it around him, pressing closer still, until there was no more room between them.

Burying her hands in his hair, she curled her fingers through the strands, stroking his head, down his neck. He closed his eyes, finally, relaxing.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, after a while. After his stress levels had stabilized and his LED had faded back to blue. He opened his eyes again and tried to pull back, but she held him tighter.

"You don't have to apologize," he said instead, giving up. She relaxed around him again, her fingers still sliding through his hair. He thought she was going to argue with him, like she always did, but she didn't say anything. Not at first.

No, for a long time she just continued to hold him, stroking his hair. His eyes were about to slide closed again when he felt her shudder. Subtle, almost unnoticeable. But her hand froze at the same time, and he jerked away before she could hold him in place again.

Like he suspected, she was crying. Only silently, the tears sliding sideways off of her nose and onto the bed. Without the need to breathe, he couldn't even tell. She moved to cover them, but he caught her wrist easily, pulling her hand away.

"I'm sorry," she said again. He shook his head, bewildered now. She reached her hand up, not for her own face, but for his, touching his cheek. "You couldn't see the look on your face. When you looked at me just now. I'm sorry."

She was crying for him, he realized. She was sorry, for what she'd done to him. For the pain she'd caused. For what he was going through. He didn't understand.

"Taylor, you died." Connor reached his hand up to place over hers, tucking his fingers around her own. "In my arms. I felt your heart stop, and when they brought you back, I sat beside your bed for weeks. You wouldn't wake up. I thought you were gone."

He leaned in, pressed his forehead against hers, ignored the fact that she was still crying. "So I'm sorry. I just haven't gotten used to the fact that you're here." The corners of his mouth pulled up. It was the first smile on his face in as long as he could remember. "You are just going to have to put up with me for a little while."

"Always," she said, pulling him against her lips. "Always," she kept muttering against his mouth, showering him with kisses. He was at her mercy, and he felt whole again for the first time in a long time.

* * *

Taylor didn't know how long, exactly, she had spent with Connor, locked away in that room. She had an internal clock now, but she kept forgetting about it, and anyway she lost track. What she did know is that Alex found her almost immediately after she emerged, not too happy about it.

"I would appreciate it if you would refrain from vanishing right now." He said, clearly annoyed though he was trying his best not to show it. She was not sure how long she could take people walking on eggshells around her.

"I was with Connor," she said defensively. From the way he arched a single eyebrow in her direction, a talent she'd always been jealous of, she knew her face must be turning colors. Shades of blue instead of red.

Alex just shook his head and pressed her phone into her hand. The very same phone she had previously owned, and when she held it up, it still recognized her face and unlocked the screen.

"Well, now that you're not with Connor, I believe we have something to talk about." He said, watching her tuck the phone into her pocket. She was still wearing an android uniform, but she hadn't had the time to ask for clothes just yet.

"Elijah said that I have to choose whether to play dead or become a hermit like him." She said in response, cutting right to the quick. Alex flinched, and she was almost sorry for her bluntness, but she didn't want to listen to him treat her with kid gloves.

"That is the gist of it, yes." She should have stopped to think of his feelings, too. She recalled the moment when she'd woken up, his hands on her face, and how he cried when he held her.

How many times in their eighteen years had she actually seen him cry? He never showed her his damage, not just because he wanted to protect her, but because he wanted to protect himself. That's just the way he was. She could count on one hand how many times he'd cried in front of her.

"Well, what do you think?" Taylor tried to moderate her tone when she spoke next. Being callous to Alex of all people was the last thing she wanted. It wasn't his fault if she was frustrated with this whole situation. She fell into step beside him as he walked, presumably toward the room where he was staying. He still needed to sleep after all, even in the circles under his eyes suggested he'd been doing very little of it.

"It isn't up to me, is it?" He said with a shrug. Something was definitely bothering him, that much she was sure of. He was acting more standoffish than normal. Usually he would cover his annoyance with sarcasm or just tell her what was on his mind. It must be something significant, and she had the distinct feeling it was her fault.

"Alex, I'm sorry." She said it as soon as they reached their destination, which did appear to be his designated room while staying at Elijah's. She could recognize some of the belongings around the room as distinctly his, including the laptop on the bedside table. When he turned around to face her, she held her hands out, palms upward, surrendering. "I can't imagine what this last few weeks has been like."

"No. You really can't." Alex answered quietly. "But there's nothing for you to apologize for, so let's just figure out what the next steps are going to be."

There was something in the way he said it. Dismissive. She swallowed, reflexively, some sort of artificial lubricant coating her mouth instead of saliva, her stress levels rising. Nothing in his expression gave it away, just the slightest of frowns turning his lips downward, his brow smooth, nothing behind his eyes.

"Tell me why you're angry at me first," she persisted, crossing her arms. That small frown deepened, and she frowned in response. They stared each other down for a moment, before his expression eased.

"I haven't seen my family in over a month, Taylor." He said carefully, not breaking his gaze. She felt the guilt washing over her instantly, but he kept going. "I missed Emily's first Christmas. I'm not angry with you. I'm just tired. I want this part to be done."

"What does that mean?" Fear had crept into her voice, crackling like static. Her fingers gripped into her sides. Alex raised his eyebrows at her, but he must have known what she meant, because he always did.

"Tell me you weren't planning on staying in Detroit before this happened?" He asked. Taylor almost shuddered. How could he have known? She'd only decided that morning, hours before she'd been stabbed. She didn't even tell Connor.

"That's what you wanted, right?" She said anyway, deflecting like she always did. "You were practically trying to talk me into it before I left D.C."

"I wanted you to decide." He threw his hands up, the frustration finally creeping into his voice. "You think I don't know you feel obligated to come back to Los Angeles because of me? I meant what I told you. I don't want to be responsible for any more of your regrets."

"Why didn't you go home?" She shot the question at him, trying to deflect again, to move the target from her chest. His face scrunched up in anguish and she wished she hadn't asked.

"You were dying. I don't know how to make you see that." He deflated a little, his shoulders slumping. "Every time I thought about going home, just for the weekend, I couldn't do it. How could I leave when something could happen to you at any moment?" In a smaller voice, he said, "What if I never saw you again?"

Taylor could see it then. The damage she had caused. Raw, ragged, and deeper than the past month when she'd been fighting for her life. A whole lifetime worth of damage. He didn't cry, not this time, but she did it for him, the artificial tears sliding silently down her cheeks.

He wasn't Connor. She couldn't just pull him close and make everything better. Alex would take time, and even with time and distance, he would not forget.

"You could have let me go." She said after a minute, as the silence dragged on and she realized he wasn't going to say anything else. Alex laughed in disbelief, a harsh, bitter sound that made her wince.

"Is that what you wanted?" He asked. "Tell me the truth, now, Taylor. I deserve as much. This past year, your ongoing recklessness, did you even care if you lived?"

"Would you have been happier without me?" She asked in return, instead of answering directly. He wanted the truth now, so should would give it to him. Not because she wanted to, but because he'd earned it. As he'd said, he deserved as much.

"Is that a serious question?" He took a step in her direction and she stepped backward in turn. When she didn't answer, his face hardened into a scowl. "I would not have been happier if you had died. I would have held myself responsible. I would have never forgiven myself. Is that what you wanted?"

"I wanted you to be happy." Taylor shook her head, back and forth, squeezing her eyes shut as the tears continued to fall. She took another step back, and then turned toward the door. "I changed my mind. I don't want to talk about this right now."

"Don't you dare run away." Alex's hands circled her arms, holding her in place. She opened her eyes again, found him inches away, still glaring at her. It occurred to her suddenly that she was an android now. Stronger than him. She could leave if she wanted, he couldn't hold her here.

But it was Alex. He didn't need hands to make her stay. She turned back to face him and he released her. Taylor looked over his face again, trying to see the boy she had met when she was a kid who had just wanted to be an agent. They had both grown up since then, but he had grown so much more than she had.

"I told Jake that story," she began softly. She didn't want to fight him. Not now, when he was so vulnerable. "Because it's true. I always knew that he resented you for stealing me away, like it was your fault. Like I didn't run. It was easy to blame you. But I would have ruined them. Just like I ruined you."

She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders trembling. Crying was such a strange feeling, when you didn't breathe. The tears just came, and then she hiccupped a sob. "I'm just like her. I ruin everything. I'm just like her."

"Hey," Alex's fingers closed over her wrists. He pulled her hands away from her face, and she let him, even though the tears were still rolling off of her chin, her whole body shaking now. "You don't get to decide that. You haven't ruined anything. You certainly didn't ruin me."

"I did. I ruined you and I'm ruining Connor, too. I ruin everything."

"Listen to me." He let go of her wrists, moved his hands to her face again, forcing her to look at him. His face had smoothed over again, the picture of calm. "You may be your mother's daughter, but you're more than that, too. Where do you think I would be right now if you hadn't dragged me into your life all those years ago? I don't regret anything, so you don't get to do it for me."

"You could have had a normal life instead of cleaning up my messes all the time," she challenged. He just shook his head.

"Who wants a normal life? I came into the industry because I wanted to be an agent. You made that happen for me. Sure, it might have happened eventually, with someone else, but do you really think some other celebrity would have been easier to deal with than you?" He gave her an indulgent smile, teasing now. He was trying to bring them back into normal conversation.

Taylor leaned into him and circled her arms around his middle, hugging him as tight as she dared. She didn't quite have a grasp on her android strength yet, but he didn't protest. He hugged her back, sliding his hand over her hair.

With his face hidden again, he added in a low voice, "Honestly, Taylor, I couldn't have let you go. Even if that's what you wanted. I'm sorry."

She shook her head again, burying her face against his shoulder. "I wasn't trying to die. I meant what I told you, too. I would never do it. I can't help it if I'm inherently reckless."

Alex laughed softly into her hair. "No, I suppose you get it honest."

"I want to be a hermit. I don't want to fake my death." She pulled away then, moving to wipe at her tears. He beat her too it, thumbing the moisture from her cheeks, a small frown returning to his face.

"You could have just led with that," he said, the corner of his mouth pulling up into a half smile. She breathed a laugh, just a small one, and he finally stepped away from her.

"When do I ever make anything easy?" She returned. "I can't stand it when you're mad at me. I couldn't have let you go home without talking things out."

"Are you staying in Detroit?" Alex asked it very carefully, his tone neutral. Taylor wondered if he really did want her to come home. How was it so easy for him to figure her out, but she never knew what he wanted? Not when he really tried to hide it from her.

"I want to be with Connor," she said honestly. It didn't matter where anymore. She didn't deserve him, but if he wanted her, then she would do everything in her power to make sure that he would never have to miss her again.

"You don't understand what it was like when you were gone." He said after the briefest of pauses, letting the information sink in. As she looked into his face once more, the haunted look behind his normally bright green eyes, she thought she was starting to comprehend it just a little. "Please don't do that to me again."

"I'll do my best not to get stabbed."

* * *

Connor moved quietly through the hallways as he tried to find Taylor. She was an android now and didn't need to sleep, but that didn't mean she hadn't gone into sleep mode somewhere out of habit. He just didn't know where she would be, so he was wandering around rather aimlessly, hoping to stumble upon her.

It took almost an hour. He wasn't as bold as Taylor, to just stick his head into random rooms with the doors closed. The sound of her voice came from a hallway where he had looked a while before, and he followed it.

There was a hush in the room when he stepped across the threshold to a small office. Chloe glanced up at him from a seat next to the fire, and for a wild second he thought he'd been mistaken, but then Taylor turned around from the chair opposite and spotted him as well.

"Hi, Connor." She smiled at him before she gave her attention back to Chloe. There were a couple of tablets open on table between them, and Taylor was scrolling on the screen. Elijah was nowhere to be seen.

Connor came closer to where they were seated, but Taylor passed the tablet back to Chloe before he could see what she was looking at. "This one should work. It's not terribly important, anyway, is it?"

"It is up to you." Chloe said neutrally, her LED flashing yellow as she looked at the screen. Connor glanced between the two of them, his brow furrowing, as Chloe handed her another tablet. "Next one, please."

"What are you doing?" Connor finally asked, fighting the urge to peek over her shoulder. Taylor didn't even look up from her scrolling to respond.

"Funeral arrangements." She said without inflection. He blinked, surprised. "Well, in a sense. It didn't seem right to throw my old body in a ditch somewhere, so I thought we should bury it properly."

Taylor lifted her head then, but when she saw the look on his face, the slight smile on hers faded. "What is it?"

Connor found he couldn't say, but the cavalier way in which Taylor was treating the whole situation felt off to him. Or maybe he hadn't even considered what would happen to her human body now that she was an android. He'd been too caught up in having her back.

"Someone has to do it," she said after a moment, tilting her head just slightly. "I didn't want it to be Alex. He's been through enough."

There was a bit of a waver then, in her bravado. He thought he would be better now at seeing through her. Maybe becoming an android had just made her better at hiding. He came closer still, until he was standing just beside her chair.

"Can I help?" He said, still looking down at her. Her eyebrows jumped up in surprise.

"Do you want to?" She asked uncertainly. He nodded, though he wasn't entirely sure if he did or not. He just didn't want to leave her to it, alone.

She stood and reached for his hand, bidding him to take her seat in the chair. When he sat, she lowered herself into his lap. He tried his best not to feel suddenly nervous, but he thought he saw the briefest flicker of amusement on Chloe's face before she looked down at her own tablet impassively. Was Chloe deviant?

"I'm picking out a headstone," Taylor said, leaning against him and bringing the tablet to where he could see it. "I have a plot picked out in the cemetery where my parents are buried. I just can't put my name on it, for obvious reasons."

Connor slid his arm around her and rested his chin on her shoulder, watching her scroll. He didn't care if Chloe was deviant or not. He also didn't care if she was watching them. "What do you want it to look like?"

"I don't know." She said honestly. Her finger was still scrolling through images, but she didn't really seem to be looking at any of them. "It's not usually something you have to think about. It doesn't need to be fancy. Maybe just a flat one with dates on it?"

"I think you should have a monument," he said. She laughed softly. "With a big statue and a plaque."

"Don't be ridiculous." She said, still giggling. "The idea is that no one will notice it. What about this?"

And so they worked to finish choosing the arrangements for her burial. Taylor continued to act as though the whole process didn't bother her, and Connor thought that perhaps he was more bothered by it than she was.

Until they left the room, with Chloe still going over her choices and logging them away. Connor led her down the hallway by her hand, but she tugged him back once they were a safe distance away. Her arms came around his middle and she buried her face in his chest.

"Thank you," she whispered. His arms came around her automatically. She still fit against him perfectly, and he rested his chin on the top of her head. Her hair didn't smell like shampoo anymore, but he didn't mind that either.

"Why can't you just ask for help?" He said after a moment.

"I just—" Her hands clenched into the fabric of his jacket. "Everyone has been through enough already. I just wanted to do one thing."

"What happened wasn't your fault, Taylor." Connor pulled away, placing his hands on her cheeks. He tilted her face up, but her eyes were still turned away. "Look at me."

She did. Her blue eyes jumped up to meet his, and they were just the eyes he remembered. The dark blue fading into light. "Tell me you don't think this is your fault."

"Not everything is about fault," she answered quietly. Her lips trembled and she pursed them before she spoke again. "How do you expect me to look around at all the damage I've caused and not feel guilty?"

"Because it's a waste of time." He said firmly. Taylor opened her mouth in shock, but he just shook his head. "I'm not asking you not to feel anything. But we did all of this because we wanted you back." He gave her a smirk, just the slightest lift of the corner of his mouth. "I had to trust Elijah Kamski."

She smiled, just a little. "Is that supposed to help me feel less guilty?"

"None of that matters now. You're back. You're here now." He slid his hands down her neck, rested them on her shoulders. "I can touch you again." He leaned forward, pressed his lips against her cheek, the corner of her mouth. "I can kiss you again. I'm not thinking about before, how or why. I don't want to worry about you feeling guilty for me."

Her smile widened. She leaned up to cover his mouth with hers, moving her lips against his slowly. He was impatient, though. He deepened the kiss, pressing his hand against the small of her back. Nibbling gently on her bottom lip, he slid his tongue into her mouth as soon as she parted her lips.

"I can find you a private room, if you like." Taylor jerked backwards instantly at the sound of Elijah's drawling voice. Her face had turned a lovely shade of blue, and it was only darkening as Elijah came closer. "No need to make out in the corridors."

"No need to watch, either. How long were you standing there?" She snapped, glaring over his shoulder. Connor didn't bother turning around. He didn't really want to see Elijah's smug visage looking at him right now.

"I just came this way looking for Chloe," Elijah responded with feigned innocence. "I thought you may be finished by now. Though this isn't the type of finished I had in mind."

"I will take you up on that room, thank you." Taylor responded, her glare darkening along with her blush. Connor loosened his hold on her, finally, moving to stand next to her instead. As he suspected, Elijah was giving them both that amused grin. "Hopefully it's not rigged with cameras, since you seem to be into voyeurism."

"Would I be in for a show if it was?" He returned, arching his eyebrows. Taylor sputtered, and he laughed. "When are you going to stop treating me like a creep?"

"When you stop acting like one!" She snapped. Elijah was still laughing at her expense when he waved them onward, back in the direction he'd come.


	59. Work Song

**Hozier – Work Song**

Taylor sat on the bed, watching Connor take his jacket off. He was poking through the closet for a hanger to put it on, so she had the rare opportunity to observe him when he wasn't looking at her. Oddly enough, they had ended up back in the same room she had locked the two of them in earlier that day.

She glanced down at her own clothing, still the short and nondescript android uniform she had woken up in. It didn't really matter, but she had meant to ask Chloe for a change of clothes. Connor had come along and distracted her from all of that. Not that she minded.

She stared at her hands, folded in her lap. Turning them over, palms facing upward, she flexed her fingers. The touch felt mostly the same as her human hands. Her brain, or, her processor still had the same thoughts and memories as before. When Connor had kissed her, just now, she'd felt the same weightless longing that she'd always felt.

Something was different, though. She was still working it out. It felt like more than wires, displays, and the inability to get tired or feel pain. She had changed somehow, and she thought she knew what it was, she just didn't want to believe it. Not yet.

"What is it?" Connor sat in front of her on the bed. She glanced up at him, but he was looking down at her hands. They were sitting, unmoving in her lap, but he must have noticed her spreading them a moment before.

"I feel different." She told him. She was past the point of lying or keeping things from him. He tilted his head just slightly.

"You are different." He said carefully, as though he could sense there was a different meaning behind her words.

"I know, but," she looked down at her hands again, flexing her fingers. "I've had anxiety since I was very small. It didn't start with Anthony. It just got worse. I developed tics. I became afraid and started having panic attacks."

The edges of her lips turned down. "Fear has been with me constantly, since I was a child. In flux, large and small, but always there. Now I can't feel it. It's gone."

Her eyes came back up to his face, her lips still pinched into a frown. Connor blinked. Then he said, slowly, "Isn't that a good thing?"

"I don't know," she said, sounding slightly miserable. "It feels like a trap. When something is intrinsically a part of you for all of your life, how are you supposed to react when it just disappears?"

"You're still the same person," Connor said quietly, placing his hands into hers. "You feel your emotions through the processor in your head rather than a human brain. It compartmentalizes, it knows there is no reason for you to be afraid right now." He gave her a small smile. "The fact that you're worrying about this shows your capacity to still feel anxiety."

"I guess that's true," she said, laughing. She looked at him for a moment, still smiling before she said, "I want to tell you something."

"Okay." He said. He tightened his fingers around hers, sliding his thumb across her knuckles.

"The morning we came back to Detroit," she began, swallowing. Nervous. His hands stopped moving for half a second, almost too small to notice. "I didn't tell you. I thought I would have time."

"Time for what?" She didn't realize that she had zoned out, her eyes drifting down to their entwined hands. For maybe half a minute, the silence stretching, making him uneasy.

"I was going to stay." She said it in a rush. So that she wouldn't hesitate again. So that she didn't overthink it and fumble over her words. He just blinked, tilting his head slightly. "With you. In Detroit. I wanted to stay with—"

Taylor didn't get the chance to finish her rambling. Connor leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. His hand came up, sliding into her hair, pulling her closer. He slid his tongue past her lips, exploring her mouth, hungry for more of her. He was pushing so close he had nearly pushed her down onto the bed.

She slid her arms around his neck and pushed back into him. He pulled away a minute later, pressing his forehead to hers, his eyes bright.

"Do you still want to stay?" He said breathlessly, his internal fans already working to cool him. He said it like an afterthought, like he had forgotten that she hadn't gotten that far in the conversation yet, an anxious look on his face. As if maybe she had changed her mind.

"As long as you'll have me," she said, smiling despite herself, kissing him again. "Until you get tired off me."

"Never," he said, smiling back at her, and it was beautiful. Iridescent. She moved closer, scooting into his lap, her knees on either side of him. Cradling his face in her hands, she pressed kisses all over his face. Against his cheeks, the tip of his nose, his eyelids when he closed his eyes, his temple.

Until he grew impatient again, pulling her to his lips, his hands tracing along her sides. She slid her fingers back into his hair, curling them against his scalp. His touch trailed down over her hips, the tips of his fingers brushing against the bare synthetic skin on her thighs.

She'd closed her eyes, but there were warnings suddenly blinking in her vision, behind her closed eyelids, persistent and angry. A small click sounded from somewhere in her chest, followed by the whirring of a cooling fan. The notification of her elevated temperature followed by other irregularities in her system started popping up on her display in quick succession as his hands continued to move.

"Connor, w-wait." Taylor broke away from the kiss, panting, shaking now. Overwhelmed. Was this what happened to Connor every time they did this? She couldn't even focus on the touch of his hands anymore. The sensory input was too high.

Connor froze, blinking his eyes open rapidly. His LED turned a solid red and he immediately attempted to pull away from her, holding his hands away from her body and trying to slide backwards on the bed. He thought she was afraid of him. He was trying to give her space.

She placed her arms around him before he could get far enough, burying her face in his neck, still shivering. He was even more tense, holding both arms out at his sides, unsure of what to do.

"I'm sorry, it's too much." She tightened her fingers around his shoulders. "It's overwhelming. I can't yet. Don't go."

The last two words were a whimper, full of desperation. He still hadn't moved. The warnings in her vision were only getting worse, her stress levels rising.

Very slowly, he placed his arms around her again. His hands began to make slow circles in the middle of her back, and he lowered his head back to her shoulder.

"It's okay." He said after a moment. Maybe to her, maybe to himself. "Nothing is wrong. You're fine. Just relax." She didn't realize she was still panting, so fast that had she still been human she would have hyperventilated. "I'm not going to leave you."

The words drained the tension out of her. She went weightless against him, still shivering, but her stress levels started to fall. Connor didn't stop running his hands over her back, but he did lift his head after a moment.

When he felt like she had calmed enough, he tucked his hands under her thighs and lifted her as he stood. She didn't have time to react before he had deposited her back into the pillows. The bed dipped down as he claimed the spot next to her, but a second later she was sliding up against him.

"You should go into rest mode." He said gently, placing his arm around her waist and pulling her flush against his chest. "I think you've had enough stress for one day."

* * *

Connor watched Markus walk up to Taylor and wrap his arms around her, lifting her bodily off of the floor. A laugh escaped her, and she couldn't move her arms to hug him back. He held her aloft for almost a whole minute, squeezing her, until the smile slowly faded from her face.

He'd spent the last several days trying to help her adjust to being an android. After that very first night, where she'd scared him senseless after her stress levels nearly went critical, they'd been spending time getting her used to the changes. Their roles had been reversed since he became deviant and needed her help with his emotions.

That morning she'd said goodbye to Hayley and Jake. Hayley had to return to East Lansing before her school break was over and Jake was going to take her back. Taylor let them know that she was staying in Detroit and promised that she would visit more often.

Now she was giving Markus that same look of concern she'd given them all since she came back. He found it puzzling that she couldn't understand how devastated they had been at the idea of losing her.

"As it turns out, I will be retiring from public life," she was saying. Connor had zoned out of the conversation momentarily, but he focused on Taylor's whimsical smile. "You'll have to find a new ambassador."

"That's the least of my worries." Markus still had his hands around Taylor's upper arms, leaned in close to her face. She was staring back at him, her face still scrunched up with worry, when he said, "Taylor, I'm sorry."

"For what?" Her face relaxed into surprise. Markus frowned, glancing away.

"It's my fault that this happened to you." He said quietly. "I shouldn't have gotten you so involved in this. You're—" He faltered, giving her a once over again. "You were human. I put you in an undue amount of danger."

"You did what was necessary." She said, frowning now. "If you think you could have stopped me, or if I wouldn't have ended up exactly where I did without your help, then you haven't been paying very close attention."

Markus frowned back at her before he sighed very pointedly, letting her go. "I suppose there is no winning with you."

"Now you're getting it." A smile spread over her face. "Remember what I said before. You have your voice now. Use it."

"This is a charming reunion and all, but I didn't realize I was running a halfway house for androids." Connor turned to see Elijah approaching, Chloe not far behind him. Indeed, North had been standing behind Markus, watching the exchange between him and Taylor in silence as well. The look on her face was remarkably unreadable, but decidedly focused on the blonde.

"Oh, very funny. Markus was just seeing me out." Taylor said. Connor realized, looking around at the six of them, they were in fact all androids. Her statement seemed to catch Elijah off guard for a moment.

Alex had flown back to Los Angeles the day before, and for Connor it had been very sudden. Taylor had not talked about it at all up until the moment it was happening, and then said it as an afterthought. He had the feeling it had been something private, a secret between them, a long goodbye.

Now he had the feeling Taylor had pulled a similar wool over Elijah's eyes. They had planned to leave today. She was going to move into the house that Alex had rented for her, back when she was planning on a temporary stay in Detroit. For whatever reason, she hadn't told Elijah until just now.

She walked to him though, while he was still processing her announcement. Her arms came up and circled his neck. Even Chloe raised her eyebrows in surprise, and Connor knew that he had been right to suspect she was deviant the first time.

"Thank you." Taylor said softly. Elijah was still stiff in her arms. She didn't qualify her statement, but just as she was about to pull away, he circled his arms around her, patting her shoulder awkwardly.

"If you need advice on how to be a hermit," he began, pulling away an instant later, still looking quite uncomfortable. "You know where to find me."

"Doesn't that defeat the purpose?" She said in return, smiling again. Still, she turned and came back over to the group of them, her eyes finding Connor. "Ready?"

The taxi was waiting outside. Elijah didn't bother to walk them out. Taylor turned back toward Markus and said, "Don't be a stranger."

"I think that was my line." He returned, smiling at her.

"You're going to be the busy one, now." She said, ducking into the taxi. Connor followed, settling in the seat beside her. Markus hung back on the sidewalk.

"Actually, I've got to get back. There's still a lot to do. It was good to see you, Taylor." Taylor leaned across him, frowning now, but she didn't protest. She gave Markus a long, unreadable look as the taxi idled on the curb.

"It was good to see you, too." She settled back into her seat, and Markus shut the door on the two of them. The taxi pulled away a moment later, driving them back towards Detroit.

The traffic was dense. Gone were the quiet days after the revolution, where much of the population had evacuated and the streets were mostly empty. People were returning now, even more so since the android bill had been passed.

Taylor scooted to the middle seat, away from the window, and rested her head against his shoulder. Connor suspected that she didn't want to risk being spotted by someone in a passing car while they were driving or stopped in traffic. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side.

"Alex is working on announcing my retirement," she said. "He'll take down all my social media accounts and the like. I wonder how long it will take for people to stop caring about who I am. Rachel wanted to do an exclusive on my retirement, but I told her the kind of ruined the hermit thing."

Connor didn't say anything in response. Partly because he thought that she was just thinking out loud, and partly because he couldn't really speculate. He still didn't fully understand the concept of fame, or what made one person more popular than another, or why humans when to strange lengths to try to interact with celebrities.

They arrived at the house eventually. Alex had sent some of Taylor's things before they left for Washington, and Jake had moved them inside the house. The boxes were just inside the door when they let themselves in, and Connor looked over them curiously.

"It's mostly clothes," Taylor told him, smiling. "You can open them if you want. I'm going to look around."

The house was very similar to Jake's. Two stories, big enough for a family with three separate bedrooms. It was already furnished, but Taylor was going in and out of the rooms, muttering under her breath about the size.

Connor brought the boxes upstairs to the master bedroom for her, and since she'd given him permission, he started to open them as well. They were, in fact, clothes. The first three boxes he went through and put away into the closet for her. She found him just as he was opening the last box, placing her hands on her hips.

"I said you could open them. I didn't mean you had to unpack for me." She sounded amused and slightly exasperated. She came closer as he opened the last box, which contained shoes. "See? Nothing exciting."

Connor reached in the box, however, toward the small piece of blush pink ribbon that he could see poking out of a small mesh bag. As he held them up, he realized what they were. "Ballet shoes?"

"Pointe shoes," Taylor corrected, frowning at them. "I don't know why Alex sent those. It's not like I would have needed them."

"You said that you didn't dance ballet anymore." He said, taking the shoes out of the bag. They were mostly soft, with a hard, square toe that was slightly frayed at the edges.

"I dropped out of my ballet troupe when they told me I needed to lose weight." She corrected him again, watching him handle the shoes without protest. "I still practiced, and I used techniques I had learned in ballet when I moved on to other kinds of dancing."

"Will you show me?" He asked, turning his gaze from the shoes to her face. "I'd like to see it."

"Would you like me to teach you ballet as well?" She smiled, her eyes moving away from the shoes as well. "Ballroom dancing isn't enough for you?"

"I just want to see you do it." He said, placing the shoes carefully back into the bag. Her face turned a light shade of blue, but she dug into the box and started carrying shoes to the closet, not saying anything else.

When they were finished, she took a seat on the bed, glancing around the room. Connor sat across from her, watching her in silence for a few moments, before he said, "I would like to try something."

"Okay," she said, focusing her attention on him. He held his hand out into the space between them, the synthetic skin peeling back to reveal his white android skin beneath. Taylor glanced down, her brows drawing together.

"Now that you are an android," he began. Nervous, suddenly. "You and I can interface with each other."

She stared down at his hand, silent. Unmoving. He had held off asking her about this for days now because she had scared him on that first night, but he thought that he could show her more this way than just explaining things to her.

Plus, if he was being honest, he wanted to be connected to her. He wanted to see inside her mind, to know everything there was to know. He wanted her to understand his feelings, too. Every single emotion she had pulled out of him in his brief existence. He wanted to share everything with her.

"This is like what you did to those androids at the Eden Club." She said, still staring at his hand. The uncertainty in her voice was painful. He shook his head.

"I probed those androids for information." He said, keeping his voice very calm. Reasonable, even though inside he was going haywire. "This is a sharing of information. I'll only do it if you agree."

"Does it hurt?" She asked next, her eyes flickering back up to his.

"Only if someone were to force you to do it." He said. The significance of consent wasn't lost on him, but she only frowned slightly. Then she leaned forward, moving her hand toward his, the skin slowly pulling back from her fingers.

"Will you be able to see everything?" She asked suddenly, jerking her hand away, holding it against her chest. He'd almost reached out to grab her as she pulled away but forced himself to be still.

"Yes." He said honestly. "This will act as an open link between us. I will see and feel everything inside of your mind, as you will with mine." He paused, and then added quietly, "It is the most intimate act that two androids can share."

Taylor stared into his eyes, still cradling her hand against her chest. Her eyes moved down to his hand for a split second, then back to his face. Her voice was thick when she said, "I don't want you to see it."

It was fear in her voice. Connor knew, inherently, what she didn't want him to see. He understood why she was afraid. Her fear didn't deter him, it only made him more determined.

"Taylor, I love you." She almost flinched, but he didn't say it to make her feel guilty. "Do you trust me?" A minute stretched on, then two, where she only looked at him. Then she nodded. "Then trust me."

Maybe he shouldn't have said it. He wanted this, though, more than he'd realized now that it was so close. He wanted every part of Taylor. He didn't want her to hide anything from him ever again.

Very slowly, she reached her hand back toward his. The synthetic skin was still gone, and as she got closer, it took all of his will power not to reach the rest of the way and take her hand. He made himself wait until her palm had pressed softly against his before he established the connection.


	60. clementine

**Halsey - clementine**

Drowning. That's what this felt like. Not in the literal sense, water filling your lungs, pressing in all around you while you thrashed. No, just a weightlessness, while thoughts flickered through her mind so fast, she could scarcely process.

She tried to focus on the images that were crowding her head. The more she grasped onto a single one, the more it seemed to slow, until she could finally see what she was looking at. CyberLife tower, but no part she'd ever been to, surrounded by androids. A memory from Connor's mind.

As she calmed down, the images began to make sense. Connor had been truthful; she could see anything and everything through his eyes. She could feel the emotions he had felt.

More than that though, she could feel Connor. It was like being immersed in him. A delicate feeling of warmth wrapped around her whole being, keeping her safe. She could stay in that place forever.

Until Connor finally released her, the synthetic skin molding back over his hand. Taylor blinked back into reality, in the master bedroom of the ridiculously large house that Alex had rented for her. He was still sitting in front of her, his hand outstretched, his LED blinking red.

During their connection, she hadn't been able to see what Connor was seeing inside of her head. Probably for the best. But she knew that he knew what he was doing, and he could process information much faster than she could. She was still trying to organize the things she had seen.

"Connor, are you okay? I told you—" He cut her sentence off by reaching for her again, pulling her very suddenly against his chest. His arms tightened around her, and she knew that had she still been human, she'd have been in pain. He buried his face against her neck.

"Hey," she said, alarmed. She wriggled in his hold until she could move her arms around him, stroking one hand down his back. "Hey, it's alright."

"I'm sorry." He muttered against her skin, but he didn't let her go. She didn't know what he was apologizing for. She didn't know what he had seen, or if he was just apologizing for his behavior. She kept stroking his back, worried.

Taylor knew that her head was a disaster area. She had suffered from anxiety since she was a child, had gone through trauma at a young age, and at times experienced unbelievable fear for almost no reason. The idea that Connor would see all of that, along with all of her ugliest memories, was the reason she'd said no to this at first.

She couldn't deny him anything, though. Not in the end, when he'd looked so earnest and asked her to trust him. He clearly had wanted this very much. She just didn't think he'd known what he was in for at the time.

"Connor, look at me." She said, gently trying to pull away. He relaxed his hold on her just enough for her to lean away, then very slowly lifted his head. There were tears collected on his cheeks, his LED a solid amber now, and she felt her heart breaking for him. Reaching up, she brushed the pads of her thumbs over his cheeks, wiping his tears away.

"I saw it all. Everything." His voice was barely above a whisper. She tried not to grimace. This was definitely her fault then. Alex had told her that she didn't ruin anything, but it was hard not to feel like she wasn't ruining Connor.

"It's okay." She said, instead of 'I told you so'. Her fingers were dabbing away the last of his tears now, but he still looked forlorn. "It's all in the past now. They're just memories."

He didn't look convinced. That little line was etched in between his eyebrows, a frown on his lips. She kept her hands on his face and leaned in, pressing her forehead to his like he did so often. "It can't have all been bad. Did you see anything good?"

"Yes." He looked up then, meeting her eyes again. "I saw Alex, and Hayley, and Jake. I saw your friends. I saw your parents, when you were younger."

"I bet you saw yourself, too." Taylor smiled at the soft blue blush that crept across his cheeks. She wondered if he'd gone looking for the memories of the two of them or if those had come easily. He was all she ever seemed to think of anymore.

"I did." He said honestly. After a moment's hesitation, he said, "Did you really care about me all that time?"

"You saw the truth for yourself," she said, knowing she was probably blushing now too. But he was smiling again, so it was worth her embarrassment. "You were kind to me. You were gentle, and determined, and everything good. I fell for you almost immediately. When you gave me your jacket, at Carlos Ortiz's house."

Connor's mouth dropped open in surprise, and her smile widened. His LED flickered for a moment. "I remember your heart rate increasing. I thought that I had frightened you."

"Yeah, you sucked at human emotions back then." She giggled. Connor smiled. He leaned closer, so that their noses were touching, then he tilted his head and pressed his lips against hers.

Taylor returned the kiss, sliding her fingers into his hair. He tightened his hold on her once more, sliding a hand under her shirt and tracing his fingers up her spine. A shiver ran through her, and her body started heating up.

This time, though, she was prepared when the warnings started to pop up in her displays. Connor had informed her that, yes, this did happen to him every time they were intimate, and he had simply gotten used to it. Just knowing that had put her mind at ease, though she had felt guilty for never suspecting.

They'd practiced. He'd refused to try again until he was sure her stress levels would not go critical. She understood the need, but the teasing had made her absolutely desperate for him. Now they were alone, in this house, with no one to hear her scream.

He broke away from her mouth, moving his lips along her jaw, down to her neck. She felt the soft, wet press of his tongue before he gently sucked on her most sensitive spots. But he was still being conservative, and she was impatient. Her hands moved down to his chest, pulling the buttons open impatiently.

"Taylor—" He warned, but she silenced him with her mouth, kissing him again as she slid fully onto his lap. He moaned softly against her lips as she grinded her hips into his, feeling his growing erection. He must have wanted this just as badly.

"Please," she said, pushing his shirt and jacket off of his shoulders. Both of his hands were pressed into the mattress now, like he was trying to control himself, so she pulled her own shirt off and tossed it away.

Her internal fans were already kicked on, whirring, trying to cool her off. The warnings were coming nonstop, but she wasn't scared this time. She expected it. She was hungry for Connor, and she started pressing kisses against his neck, pressing her breasts against his chest as she did so.

"Please," she said again, rolling her hips into his again. Connor couldn't take it anymore. His hands came up to her waist and he picked her up easily, lifting her off of him and pressing her back into the bed. He climbed over the top of her, his eyes dark with lust, his arms on either side of her body.

"Tell me if you need to stop." He said, his voice full of tightly held restraint. It made her want him more, and she nodded jerkily, reaching for his belt buckle. He pressed his knee in between her legs, pinning her to the bed, grinding against her heat. She moaned and arched her back toward him, hypersensitive to his touch.

"Patience," he said softly, lowering himself down to her. His hands worked her bra loose while he placed kisses along her collar bone, sucking lightly on her skin in between each one. Once he'd discarded her bra, his hands were already moving for the rest of her clothing. His mouth closed around her nipple, and he flicked his tongue over it while he worked her panties off.

"C-Connor, please," she breathed, begging now. He ignored her as he tossed her clothes away and started trailing kisses down her chest toward her stomach. He paused over the small, hidden compartment where her thirium pump was located. He ran his tongue along the outer edge.

A shudder went through her, so violent that she lifted off of the bed. It left her panting, but Connor kept moving, until his kisses trailed all the way to the sensitive bud above her entrance. She nearly jumped off the bed again when his lips brushed against her clitoris.

He placed one hand on her hip to pin her against the bed as he nuzzled in. She moaned as his tongue plunged inside of her. He licked a slow stripe through the center of her, then worked his tongue back and forth over her clitoris.

Her legs started to shake, the tension in her abdomen already building. She'd been under stimulated for too long and now she was rushing to climax. Connor must have known. He sealed his lips around her clitoris and started to gently suck. The sensation was enough to make her whole body tingle with pleasure, and she came seconds later, moaning his name.

He stayed there, lapping up the fluids from her orgasm, his tongue working slowly over her folds. When he glanced up, his eyes were still dark, and he licked his lips. Even though she had just come down from her orgasm, she wanted more. She wanted him.

Connor must have decided she could handle their present activities. He rose up above her to pull off his pants and boxers, kicking them across the room. His hands slid up her hips slowly, reverently, and in one swift motion he flipped her onto her stomach.

Taylor gasped when his fingers dug into her hips again, pulling her up onto her knees. A moment later, he pushed into her until his hips were flush against her backside. She buried her face into the bed to muffle her scream of pleasure, her hands fisting into the covers.

He leaned over, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. She clenched around him, pushing her hips back. Asking him to move. He gripped her hips in his hands and started to thrust. She was already sensitive from her previous orgasm, and the sensation was nearly unbearable, but she didn't want him to stop.

Every inch of him was slamming into her, skin slapping against skin. She was a moaning, panting mess, and she was already close to her second climax. She said his name, but she couldn't get anything else out before she came again, clenching hard around his cock as he continued to move.

The pleasure was nearly unbearable, her body shuddering. Connor came a moment later, and she was almost grateful when he stopped moving, twitching inside of her. The sensations were about to drive her insane.

He pulled out gently, leaning in to kiss her neck again. Her internal fans were still working at full speed, trying to cool her, but the panting was slowing down. She turned to press her lips over his, kissing him slowly, gently.

"There's a jacuzzi tub in the master bath," she said when she pulled away, smiling. "Want to join me?"

"Yes," he said, kissing her again.


	61. Lover

**Taylor Swift - Lover**

"Hey, kid. Long time no see." Hank's reaction to Taylor's return was fairly muted compared to everyone else. Connor supposed he should not be surprised. Taylor smiled at the lieutenant, and she went in for a hug immediately. He hugged her back, somewhat awkwardly.

"Good to see you, Hank." She released him a moment later. People had been waving or acknowledging her since she walked back into the precinct, but she had made her way straight to his desk.

"It's good to see you back on your feet. Maybe this slacker will come back around to work now." Hank said, giving Connor a pointed look. Taylor just smiled at him. She didn't want to give him away.

"Actually, I came to speak to the Captain about returning to the precinct." Connor said. Hank looked over at him in surprise, then he clapped him on the shoulder.

"That's great! About damn time." Hank was smiling now. "Do you need me to come with you?"

Connor looked at Taylor uncertainly, but she just raised her eyebrows. "If you think it would help."

"I came to see Gavin, so I'll leave you two to it." Taylor said, clearly amused. Hank frowned at her.

"He ain't in a good mood these days thanks to his new partner. Watch yourself." He warned. Taylor just rolled her eyes at the warning, turning in the direction of Detective Reed's desk.

"What could be so bad about his partner?" She asked, looking around for him. Gavin wasn't at his desk, and she sighed.

"Actually, funny story," Hank began, looking suddenly uncomfortable. Connor was curious now, and was about to ask why, when he noticed Taylor freeze. He followed her line of sight and saw Gavin exiting the break room, his new partner hot on his heels.

His LED flashed yellow for a moment. The android following Detective Reed was clearly a Connor model. He caught sight of the RK900 on its jacket and frowned. An upgraded version, then.

"Your buddy Markus sent that thing along a couple weeks ago from CyberLife. Fowler thought Connor was such a hit, he decided to keep it and assign it to Reed since that asshole can't keep a partner." Hank explained.

"He's not deviant?" Taylor asked, tilting her head as she watched the two. There was a curious look on her face. Connor didn't like it at all.

"Apparently it has some anti-deviant software on it. Markus said it just wanted to do its assigned job as a detective android, so he sent it here." Hank shrugged, clearly not caring about the whole situation. "It's a creepy Connor knock-off."

Taylor laughed, but she was still staring at Gavin and the RK900. "Can't go deviant, huh?"

She started walking towards them, and Connor found that he was following her a moment later. She gave him a skeptical look, and he said quickly, "I've decided to accompany you to see Detective Reed."

"Uh huh." She clearly wasn't convinced, but she didn't protest. He had sworn to himself that he wouldn't be unnecessarily jealous anymore. He just didn't like this situation at all.

That android was a Connor model. Wouldn't it be just as drawn to Taylor as he had? From the very beginning, when he was a machine still, Taylor had enamored him. Why shouldn't this new version of him be the same?

What's more, what if Taylor decided she wanted an upgraded Connor. She seemed intrigued by him. The RK900 probably had plenty of improvements over him. He had only been a prototype, after all.

"Hello, Gavin," Taylor said with a smile. They'd crossed the room and stopped in front of Gavin's desk before Connor had appropriate time to organize his thoughts. Gavin glanced up from where he'd been glaring into his cup of coffee, and his jaw dropped open.

"Holy shit, you're back." He said, which made Taylor laugh again. Connor was watching the RK900, who was now eyeing the blonde with interest. Scanning her. He made himself stand very still beside her.

"Now that is an appropriate response, Detective Reed. Well done." She gave him a cheeky smile, and Gavin managed to close his jaw. For the moment, she wasn't acknowledging the android at his side. "I came to say thank you. For Anthony."

"Yeah, sure." He responded, glancing away. His ears turned pink. "I was just doing my job."

"If I may ask, who are you?" The RK900 finally spoke up. His voice was deeper than Connor's, his eyes the color of steel. When Taylor glanced in his direction, he said, "I have never seen Detective Reed react in such a manner. I am curious as to the cause."

"No one is talking to you, tin can." Gavin bit off, more annoyed now, glaring at the android standing near his chair.

"My name is Taylor," Taylor said, ignoring Gavin's comment, a grin of amusement on her face now. She stepped around the desk and offered her hand to the RK900. He looked down at it, a slight frown on his face, before he reached out to shake her hand.

Connor felt himself tensing the moment the two of them touched. He knew it was irrational, but the RK900 made a strange expression when he grasped her hand, releasing it quickly. Taylor seemed completely oblivious. "What's your name?"

"I have been designated 'Nines'." He said, regaining his composure, folding his arms behind his back. Taylor gave Gavin a dubious look.

"What was I supposed to call it, Connor Two?" He grumbled, glaring at Connor like this whole thing was his fault.

"It's nice to meet you, Nines." Taylor turned back to him with a smile. He just looked at her uncertainly before he nodded. Content, she came back around the desk. Connor felt better with every bit of distance between her and the RK900, who was still watching the blonde curiously.

Taylor stepped up to his side, sliding her arm through his and giving him a sideways smile. He'd forgotten temporarily that she could sense his stress levels now, too. To Gavin, she said, "See you around, Detective Reed."

"Yeah, whatever." He muttered, still frowning as they walked away. When they were a good distance away, she leaned into him.

"Please tell me you were jealous of the android back there and not Gavin." She was attempting a joke, he knew, but Connor still felt unsettled by the whole affair.

"He is an upgraded version of myself." He said after a moment. Her smile faded when she saw how serious he was. "What if he develops feelings for you as I did? What if you decide you like him more?"

"Hey." Taylor stopped walking abruptly, pulling him to a stop with her. There was a frown on her face, and she grabbed the lapel of his jacket, yanking him closer. "That's not fair. I don't care about some shiny, new Connor. You're my Connor."

"But—" He didn't get the chance to finish. She pulled him down against her lips, cutting off his words. He forgot they were in the precinct until someone whistled, and Taylor pulled away from him, smiling.

"No buts. We're going to have to work on your jealousy." He cleared his throat as she stepped around him, continuing on towards Hank. The lieutenant was shaking his head at them, but he also looked slightly amused. Connor followed after her, adjusting his tie, trying to appear unaffected.

Hank led them towards Captain Fowler's office, holding the door as Taylor walked past him. Connor filed in and Hank pulled the door shut. The captain looked up from the papers on his desk, his face decidedly not amused by their interruption. His eyes found Taylor immediately.

"You're back." He said, frowning. "You could have at least turned in your badge when you left."

"I lost it." The lie fell from her lips effortlessly. Taylor shrugged and smiled like she couldn't be bothered, not even glancing in his direction. Connor had felt his thirium pump speed up with nervousness as soon as Captain Fowler brought it up, but Taylor just said, "It's been an intense couple of months."

"So I've heard." Fowler sighed, and then turned his attention to Connor. Letting it go, just like that. Connor had to try not to be impressed with how easily Taylor lied to other people. "And here's renegade number two. Deviant now?"

"Yes, sir." Connor stood at attention with his hands folded behind his back. It had been quite some time since he'd been standing in this office, but he fell back into it easily.

"Now you've come crawling back. What are you doing here?" Fowler wasn't going to give in easily. He was going to make Connor work for it.

"I was hoping to resume my position as detective with the Detroit Police. If you'll have me." He inclined his head, aiming for humility. Fowler didn't look impressed.

"Come on, Jeffrey. He was helping to free his people." Hank said, sounding annoyed. "And I still need a partner."

"If you behaved like an adult and not a child, you would have a partner," Jeffrey snapped, glaring at Hank. Hank glared right back, and beside them, Taylor pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh. Then Fowler turned back to Connor, his glare easing into a frown.

"Fine, you can have your position back. For now." He sighed again at the smile the stretched across Connor's face. He couldn't hold it in, though. Hank clapped him on the shoulder. "If you step one toe out of line again, though, you're getting demoted to cleaning android."

"Yes, sir." Connor nodded. They filed out of the room quickly, before the captain could change his mind.

* * *

Taylor was sitting on the floor of her new living room, trying to set up her new television. If she had to live life as a hermit, she was going to do it with all available streaming services and videogames. She'd ordered a new, bigger TV and was signing into all of the apps.

Connor was sitting behind her on the couch, watching her work. He had mounted the television onto the wall for her, not that she needed help with things like that anymore. She was an android too, after all.

She looked at him over her shoulder. He'd been staying with her for the past couple of days while she settled in, and while she was certainly glad for his company, she was starting to wonder when he was going back to Hank's.

He noticed that she'd stopped typing in passwords on the screen and met her eyes. His LED flashed yellow for just a second. He'd still decided to keep it, even after being deviant for so long, even now that he had rights. She didn't mind it. Even though she could detect his stress levels now, it was still her favorite way of figuring out what he was thinking.

"What is it?" He finally said. She realized she had been staring at him in silence for at least a couple of minutes.

"Nothing, it's just," she turned back to the television and erased her password from the box, starting over. She'd forgotten where she'd left off. Then she remembered she could have accessed her android memory and remembered. She was still getting used to that. "I was wondering when you were going to go back to Hank's. I mean, I think I've gotten everything figured out here now."

Connor didn't respond, but she heard him stand from the couch. He padded over to her, taking a seat behind her and pulling her into his lap. She leaned back against his chest, the remote in her hand drifting down to her knee, forgotten.

"I'm not going back to Hank's." He said, resting his chin against her shoulder. With his arms wrapped around her waist, pinned the way she was, she couldn't turn to look at him. "Unless you don't want me to stay?"

Taylor didn't know what to say at first. Of course she wanted him to stay. The only thing she could manage was, "What about Hank?"

"I will see the Lieutenant at work." Connor said simply, pressing a kiss against her neck. She tried not to shiver, but it was no use. "We can visit him as often as we like, right?"

"Right," she agreed.

"I don't want you to stay here alone." He said, when she didn't say anything else. His arms tightened around her middle, drawing her closer still. "I don't want to lose you again."

"You won't," she said softly. He nuzzled his face into her neck, and she raised a hand up to touch his hair. "You can stay forever, if that's what you want."

"Forever," he repeated, like the concept was foreign to him. A little puzzled and slightly in awe. "I'd like that. What are you going to do?"

"I don't know yet," she said truthfully. "I told you before that I've never been anything but famous. I have to learn how to do something else now."

"You will." He lifted his head again, his nose brushing against her cheek. "You can do anything. You're amazing."

Taylor laughed softly, twisting in his arms so that she could face him. Her hands came up, cupping his face, and she kissed him. Slow and sweet and full of every bit of passion she had for him. She pulled away before he could deepen it, their noses still touching, and smiled. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

**Fin**

Hey guys. I just wanted to write a few lines here at the end to say thank you for reading this story. I had a lot of fun writing it, so I hope you guys enjoyed it.

I have an epilogue that I'm half-heartedly working on. Just to wrap up some of the loose ends I left, let some of the characters get a little more screen time. If any of you are even interested in more of this nonsense, drop a line and let me know. I'll try to finish it soon. Otherwise, this is the official end.

These are crazy times we live in, so stay safe out there.


End file.
